


oceans

by cassiopeias



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ...ish, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Beach, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Summer AU, Surfer Daichi, as slow burn as it gets in 30k, they're here and they're NOT straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-19 15:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12412965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiopeias/pseuds/cassiopeias
Summary: A stressed medical student Suga decides to go to Niijima to relax for the summer with his group of rowdy friends. There, he meets Daichi who ends up being his surfing coach. A time to unwind turns to be an abundance of life changing experience—especially on friendships, plain old surfing tips, and love.





	oceans

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY RYNA!!! this fic was written for my best, best everything, ryna. this is a really late birthday present, but i still hope this is good enough for u. ur amazing & not to be soft but i fucking love u <3
> 
> title is based on seafret's song with the same title since im so unoriginal. coincidentally this is also the song i kept listening to while writing this fic. enjoy!!!
> 
> (implied!bokuaka; michimiya/kuroo are a fling that wont be vital to the story, theyre just... there. but just a warning if ur not into that!; rated T for the cursing, drinking scenes and smoking mentions)

Suga wakes up with a crick in his neck and hell of a hangover. The tent he’s in is a bit cramped, filled by three adults with considerably long legs. It takes a few moments to reorient himself while he unzips his sleeping bag and sits up. Right now, he’s camping out at a campsite in Niijima, his friend Kuroo and Iwaizumi are sleeping off their respective hangovers in their respective sleeping bags next to his, and goddamn it, why is it so hard to locate his water bottle?

 

After gulping down some aspirin, the throbbing in his head eases down considerably. If Suga remembers correctly, it’s their third day of staying in Niijima, and the whole time since he and his friends got here, they woke up with awful hangovers. This vacation is for them to relax from the city, sure, so relaxing it is that they do, but Suga isn’t sure he can trust his hazy memories. The only thing he can remember is arriving at the port, setting up camp, spending the days sleeping and nights drinking.

 

They all compromised to start traveling the island by the third day, and Suga is more than happy to start actually functioning like a human being without being at constant risk of getting alcohol poisoning. If they’re going to wind up, then they’re going to do it right. The city is overwhelming and Suga is owed at the least this much for all the stress and hard work he’s put into studying medicine.

 

It’s quite nice that Suga is not the only medical student in their group of backpacking friends. There’s Akaashi, who’s sleeping in another tent with Bokuto. They get their own tent because theirs is smaller than the one Suga is currently sharing with two other big guys. Though, logically, Suga and Iwaizumi who are the shortest in the group should’ve slept in that smaller tent. Well, it’s not like logic just easily applies to Bokuto.

 

The sun is high when Suga exits the tent. By now, his headache has lessened to mildly annoying throb and he’s awake enough to move his limbs. He finds Akaashi already outside, squatting in front of his tent with an ice cream cup in his hand.

 

“Morning,” Suga addresses him. Akaashi is the one who always suffers the least after their nights in izakayas. The guy was never a fan of drinking, and though he’s the youngest, he’s unofficially the chaperone of the group. Suga usually fulfills that role, but he’s not going to lie, letting himself loose has been doing good things for his mental health—not physical, obviously, but still—and not being overly responsible over his friends has admittedly been nice, too.

 

“Good morning, Suga-san,” Akaashi nods back.

 

Suga hates the formality, they’ve known each other for three years now, but it’s Akaashi, and Akaashi makes it up with his bluntness, so it’s okay. He plops down next to Akaashi, fanning himself. “It’s so hot. I feel so sticky.”

 

Akaashi makes sure to spend the last of his ice cream before responding. “Please go shower, Suga-san. It’s almost lunchtime and Bokuto-san said we already booked a surfing lesson for after lunch.”

 

Suga honestly can’t recall the time he ever whipped his head around as fast as he does after hearing that. “Wha—surfing, what? Why would Bokuto need surfing lessons, he surfs just fine!” Akaashi tilts his head pointedly in the direction of Suga’s tent. “Oh, right. Kuroo. Of course it’s him, it’s always him.”

 

“I’ll wake up the others,” Akaashi offers, which Suga resignedly accepts before standing up to get his shower stuff.

 

It’s an uneventful affair, the public bathrooms are empty so he finishes rather quick. His stomach rumbles embarrassingly while he towels his hair, yet the clock shows that it’s barely past midday. Come to think about it, Suga isn’t sure what he ate last night, or if he did at all.

 

When he comes back to the campsite, everyone except Akaashi is still lazing around. Bokuto and Kuroo are lying dejectedly by the mouths of their tents, and Iwaizumi is nursing his hangover by nibbling on a melon bread.

 

And they’re supposed to surf like this?

 

“Hey,” Suga starts. “What do you think about—”

 

“We’re not backing out of the surfing lesson, Suga,” Kuroo interjects, voice muffled. The tall guy slowly rises from his spot, his bedhead only slightly worse than usual. “I need this. It’s been a long time since I’ve done something cool.”

 

Bokuto’s head pops up. “Bro, you’re always cool.”

 

“Why, thank you, bro.”

 

“Anytime, bro.”

 

“Please, go to shower,” Akaashi cuts in, voice pinched. When Suga glances at him, he has fingers pressed into his temples. Suga is suddenly glad he did not get the part of waking up those two.

 

Suga takes up the space next to Iwaizumi on the picnic mat in front of the two tents. The silence is pleasant, since Iwaizumi isn’t someone who needs to fill silence with mindless talks, a bit like Akaashi on that part. Like Suga, Iwaizumi comes from Miyagi to go to school in Tokyo, though unlike Suga, Iwaizumi got in through volleyball scholarship. They weren’t exactly friendly during high school—their schools were rivals—but when they met again in college, it’s just nice to have someone to take the bullet train home to Miyagi with. As time progressed, they became close enough that now they go on vacations like this one.

 

“I’m gonna go shower...” Iwaizumi mumbles and disappears into his tent.

 

Suga lies down on the mat, closing his eyes. The headache he was having has now dispersed into dull ache, so he probably has no excuse to pull out of the surfing lesson. It’s not like he can’t swim, because he can, he just doesn’t particularly enjoy it. Pools are fine, but the ocean is a different matter. If he were to fall while surfing and the waves are harsh and merciless, he could _die_. He could die before he could graduate college and be a doctor, what if he never gets married—

 

His thought gets interrupted by a sharp slap by his arm. When Suga opens his eyes to see the perpetrator, Iwaizumi is standing over him with a towel in his hand. “What the hell was that for?” Suga demands, rubbing his sore skin.

 

“Stop thinking too much.” Iwaizumi yawns.

 

“Wow, gee, I’m cured. Thank you, Iwa.”

 

“Go be cheeky to Akaashi, not me,” Iwaizumi retorts, then walks away. The only witness to Suga sticking his tongue at Iwaizumi’s back is Akaashi, but Suga knows Akaashi isn’t a snitch.

 

Everyone only finishes getting ready by the time Suga feels like his stomach is going to eat itself. He turns a deaf ear to Kuroo telling him he’s being dramatic. They all decide to go to a sushi place for lunch and order the traditional sushi. It’s pretty affordable and though their group doesn’t need to be strict with their budget, it’s never a bad thing to eat cheap good food.

 

According to Kuroo, they will meet their surfing instructor in a surfboard rental shop a few blocks from the sushi place. It goes without question that Suga whines about it the whole way.

 

The rental shop is a pretty modest place, but even Suga can tell everything is of high quality and he’s not an expert on this stuff. There’s a _\+ BIKE RENTAL_ sign pasted on the front door and rows of bicycle parked out front. Kuroo enters first with the rest of them trailing behind him.

 

A man and a woman who look their age are standing behind the counter. The woman has short, dark brown hair barely touching her shoulder, wearing a swimsuit and writing down something on a board. The man stands next to her and perks up when he sees their group walking in. From what Suga can see, the guy is his height, but broader and well-muscled. He also has the nice kind of naturally mussed black hair and tanned skin. Suga, with his skinnier build and pale skin, is totally not jealous.

 

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou,” Kuroo introduces himself and shakes the man’s hand. “I booked a lesson for two here yesterday.”

 

“Yes, hello, Kuroo-san. We’ve been expecting for you,” the man replies smoothly with a smile. “I’m Sawamura Daichi and this is Michimiya Yui. Michimiya will be the one who instructs you.”

 

There’s a greasy, satisfied smile on Kuroo’s face when he sees the woman, Michimiya. Gross. Suga walks up to the counter next to Kuroo when he’s beckoned. Sawamura’s gaze falls on him and something claws the insides of his stomach. That doesn’t make sense at all, he just ate.

 

“I’m Sugawara Koushi,” Suga says, extending a hand. Sawamura’s grip is firm and warm and there’s welcoming smile on his face. The headiness Suga feels probably comes from the summer heat.

 

In the end, everyone ends up renting surfboards for themselves. Akaashi almost doesn’t, because _Bokuto-san, who will watch over them_ , but somehow Bokuto finds a way to persuade him. They all walk to the beach with their respective boards, and Suga has half a mind to just drag the thing before remembering that it’s rented.

 

Ocean breeze is the first thing that greets them, the white sand and waves rolling and crashing second. Bokuto is already running towards the ocean, Iwaizumi behind him with noticeably slower pace and Akaashi drags his feet not too far from them.

 

“Suga,” Kuroo nudges him with a sunscreen bottle. “Apply some more. You freckle easily.”

 

Suga rolls his eyes, but takes it. “Are you this overbearing with Kenma?”

 

“Nope. A lot more than this.”

 

“Unsurprising. No wonder he chose to go to that game convention instead of joining us.” Kuroo sticks a tongue at him in response.

 

Their instructors are standing there awkwardly, not being in the conversation, and Suga feels bad. He tilts his head at Sawamura, gesturing to the sunscreen. “Do you mind helping me putting it on?” he asks him, while Kuroo starts warming up with Michimiya.

 

Initially, Suga is nervous about not being interesting enough that they have nothing to talk about, they’re strangers and he doesn’t know a lot of conversation starters. Sawamura seems to be unbothered by it, and fills the silence with small talks that eases Suga into comfort and security.

 

“Are you guys from Tokyo?”

 

“Yeah, we’re stressed college students looking for relaxation.”

 

“Ah...” Sawamura huffs out a laugh. “College sure is stressful.”

 

“You go to college, too? I thought you were from here, Sawamura-san.”

 

“I am, but I go to college in Tokyo,” Sawamura reveals. They abandon the sunscreen bottle to start stretching. “And please, call me Daichi.”

 

“Then please call me Suga, too,” Suga replies. It makes it easier for him now that it’s confirmed Daichi—nice name—is around his age. Things are less formal and more laid back.

 

Suga finally gets excited to get in the water when Daichi crosses his arms and says, “No. We start here first.”

 

“On the land?”

 

“On the land.”

 

The next five minutes is Daichi explaining basic stuff about surfing. Since Suga doesn’t have any particular fear of the ocean and swims just fine, Daichi then explains to him different kinds of waves. Suga has never surfed before, so he will be surfing the crumbling waves since they’re weaker and perfect for beginners.

 

Daichi digs a small hole in the sand. “It’s for the fin,” he explains. “Give me your surfboard.”

 

Suga is, not unexpectedly, very nervous. His palms are a bit sweaty and slick where he’s holding the board, but fortunately it doesn’t slip and fall on Daichi’s head. Suga watches his instructor lay down the surfboard on the ground.

 

“Let’s start practicing the popup here first.” Daichi shows him how to do it, and it looks super complicated to twist your limbs like that. “Don’t worry, it’s easier when you try it yourself. I’ll correct your form.”

 

Suga takes Daichi’s place lying on top of the board. It’s like push-up but not using your hands and toe to support you. Suga tries to twist his limbs the way Daichi did, and after a few form adjustments from Daichi, Suga’s popup is declared as satisfactory.

 

The water greets him in cold splash against his legs. It’s refreshing and knee deep into the water, it’s nice. Suga can make out his friends in the distance. Akaashi isn’t the best at surfing, either, but he at least knows how to stand on the board while the waves roll.

 

Daichi instructs him to start by riding prone—on his belly—first. Before that, he needs to get used to the whitewater first. Spend a little time getting used to how hard the waves can hit, keep the nose of the board pointed at the waves and stand next to it at all times. It’s basic logic, but Suga does find himself waver from time to time. It’s when they get waist deep that Daichi starts speaking again.

 

“You can rest the board on the water now,” he instructs. “Rest your hand on it to keep it stable, beware of the whitewater’s strength. It can literally throw you off. I’ll show you how to ride prone.”

 

Daichi rests his own surfboard on the water, goes a bit farther ahead of Suga and waits for a roll of waves to hit. It happens pretty quick, and because it’s not exactly very harsh, Suga can still pick up on what Daichi does. He watches Daichi tip up the nose of the board over the whitewater and jump onto the board, lying on his stomach. Right before the waves disperses farther to the shore, Daichi turns his board around to wait for another line of whitewater. When it gets nearer, Daichi builds a momentum towards the shore. It hits and Daichi lets it carry him.

 

The sight of it makes Suga clench his fingers around the board. The pure joy on Daichi’s face causes Suga an itch he can’t scratch. He’s sure Daichi surfs spectacularly, but if even a thing as basic as prone riding makes him this happy, then Daichi must extremely love surfing.

 

Next, Suga gets his turn, and it feels like forever of wobbling and falling off until he gets a lot more stable than how he began. Daichi seems to approve of this and calls for a break. If he wasn’t so exhausted, Suga could kiss Daichi’s foot right there and then, he could _worship_ him.

 

They both plop down on the sand with a bit distance from the water. Kuroo is still having fun in the water, and if Suga is reading how his friend and the female instructor’s body language right, he’s getting laid tonight. It’s... not something that is very pleasant to think, so Suga drags his attention back to the very much pleasant man sitting next to him.

 

Daichi is sitting—half lying down, really, propping his upper body with his elbows. The calmness and casualness of it sends Suga’s insecurities to turn into vapor.

 

“How was that, Suga-san?” Daichi asks, filling the silence. For some reason, his voice sounds a bit uneasy.

 

Suga entirely doesn’t expect Daichi to stare at him so intensely, but there’s something he recognizes in his eyes. The desire of approval.

 

“It was really nice, Daichi-san. You’re great.” He clears his throat. “Was that your first time coaching someone in surfing?”

 

Daichi’s eyes go wide. “How do you know? Am I bad? Please, be honest, Suga-san.”

 

“No, no!” Suga waves his hands around. This took an unexpected turn, he really needs to shut up. “It’s totally a coincidence. You were really awesome.”

 

“Ah, thank you...” Daichi sighs, a small relieved smile on his lips. He combs his damp hair back with his fingers. “It’s just, I would feel like a failure if I already studied education for more than two years and still suck at teaching.”

 

“Oh, yeah, you did say you go to Tokyo for college! So, you’re going to be a teacher?”

 

“Yup, that’s all I ever wanted to be.”

 

“You’re so good at surfing, though.”

 

“It’s mostly a hobby for me, my dad’s the surfer.”

 

There’s a proud glint in Daichi’s eyes from mentioning his father. The weather is already very warm, but there’s a distinct warmth coursing through Suga’s body. He’s only known Daichi for like, a few hours? And Daichi might be the most earnest person he’s ever encountered.

 

“So, I guess you like the teaching part more than the surfing part?”

 

“You can say so, yeah,” Daichi chuckles. Suga considers it a nice sound. “You said you’re also a college student?”

 

“Ah, yeah, I’m studying medicine. Third year now.”

 

Suga grabs a handful of sand and watches it trickle out of his grip steadily. Talking about his choice of faculty brings a wave of confusion, and he likes to keep any discussion about it short.

 

“Really?” Daichi basically almost yells. The other beachgoers turn their heads toward their direction, and Suga regrets not digging himself a hole in the sand. Somehow, it doesn’t phase Daichi at all. “I’m in my third year, too! Please, drop the san from now on.”

 

It takes Suga aback that Daichi doesn’t immediately regards Suga differently after learning that he’s a medical student. It’s completely refreshing, even more than the beach, that someone blatantly ignores that fact and actually really wants to know him.

 

“Wait, how old are you, though?” Suga asks, and if it’s noticeable that his mood is getting better, he can honestly care less.

 

“I’m nineteen. How about you, Suga-san?”

 

“How are you younger than me! I’m twenty!” Suga playfully pouts, but fortunately Daichi picks up on it and laughs.

 

“I mean, I’m turning twenty, too, but later this year. In, like, December.”

 

“Reassuring.”

 

Daichi throws a bit of sand at him, and the next few minutes is just Suga trying to spit out sand and retaliating at the same time. “Be respectful of your elder!”

 

They call a truce after going at it until they’re exhausted. There’s a silent agreement that today’s lesson ends here to be continued tomorrow. Right after they slump down the sand, Kuroo and Michimiya appear with equally messy hair and swollen lips. Suga really took his eyes off them for a few minutes and this happens.

 

“Where’s Bokuto and Akaashi?” Suga evades before Kuroo can tell him what he was up to.

 

“They went to buy ice cream, I think,” Kuroo answers. “Also today was really nice.”

 

Daichi sits up and offers him a salute. Michimiya smiles at both of them. Suga has no idea how Daichi doesn’t notice.

 

“We’re continuing tomorrow, I take it?” Daichi prompts.

 

“Yeah, of course, man,” Kuroo reassures. For a second, Suga can see lightbulb forming next to his friend’s head. “Hey, you guys are pretty cool. Do you think you can hang out with us tonight? We’re probably going to some izakaya again.”

 

“That sounds awesome, I’d love to,” Michimiya swiftly answers.

 

“I’m in, too,” Daichi adds.

 

“Cool. Bring your friends, too, if you want. Also girlfriend, maybe,” Kuroo directs the last sentence to Daichi.

 

There’s a familiar tug of disappointment in Suga’s stomach, and as usual, he ignores and pushes it far, far away. It’s illogical for him to experience disappointment from this, what right does he have?

 

“Yeaaaah,” Daichi draws out, his friendly smile still on. Suga gets the strangest urge to punch him. “We’ll see to that.”

 

“Alright. You guys have my number, so let me know what time you’re free.” Kuroo gestures weirdly, probably signifying telephone or the sort. “We’ll be off for now, then. Come on, Suga.”

 

Pettiness almost consumes him, but Suga decides to brush it all off and at least bids goodbye to the instructors by waving weakly at them.

 

He really damn hopes Kuroo takes his sullenness as exhaustion.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

At around seven, Kuroo waves his phone at Suga and everyone else. “Sawamura’s going to meet us at the izakaya in an hour,” he explains, ruffling his hair and messing it up even more. There’s a delighted smirk decorating his face.

 

Even Bokuto, the most oblivious one in their group, notices. It’s Kuroo, anyway, Bokuto always picks up on things when it comes to Kuroo. “Hey, hey, what’s up?”

“Kuroo-san met a girl, I think,” Akaashi helps answering. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at Kuroo, seemingly impressed.

 

“Nah,” Kuroo waves it off. “It’s just a fling. Michimiya knows that, too.”

 

Everyone, probably except Suga who just mouths it, whoops for Kuroo.

 

It’s all very merry and all, to see his friend having grand romantic summer adventure. Meanwhile, Suga tries to find an excuse not to go to the izakaya. He even drank spoiled milk earlier to give himself a stomachache, but of course his immunity would fail him at times like this. The whole thing with Daichi—the easy chemistry, the jokes, the warm smiles—might just be an extension of Suga’s imagination. Daichi is simply a good person and treats everyone like that.

 

An hour later, Suga and his friends find themselves in an izakaya different from the one they visited the first two nights. Daichi is easy enough to spot, and as they get closer, Suga can see Michimiya and three other people he’s never seen. It takes a painfully conscious effort on Suga’s part to keep his steps light.

 

By some weird seat assignment, Suga gets stuck sitting with Daichi to his left and a girl with a ponytail to his right. His palms start to sweat from sitting to strangers, though he tries to tell his brain that his friends are right there and there’s nothing to worry about.

 

Totally ignoring his own rational side, Suga immediately orders sake for himself. This night already feels like a long one and it’s barely started, the least he can do for himself is indulge in alcohol to numb everything until he passes out.

 

”Hey,” Daichi addresses him, sounding too soft for Suga’s liking and wellbeing. “You didn’t strike me as the drinking type.”

 

“Yeah, I need to cope somehow,” Suga replies. He doesn’t sound like himself, all surly and rough, but he earns satisfaction from seeing Daichi’s frown. He himself doesn’t like this part of him, who’s all negative and petty, so he decides to zip his mouth for the rest of the night.

 

The girl next to him tries to engage him in a conversation for five minutes straight. Just to be polite even with his bad mood, Suga acknowledges her with smiles, even his one word answers don’t deter her at all. If this was any other night, Suga would totally reciprocate the girl’s cracks at him.

 

Not long after, everyone determines it’s time to order food, so Suga orders the spiciest thing they’ve got. Distantly he can hear his friends pretending to choke from seeing his choice of food. Daichi chuckles next to him, startling him. Suga looks up from where he was staring at the table and Daichi’s lax smile greets him. It’s so jarring to see his face so close, have they been sitting this close to each other? Suga gets even more taken aback when he realizes that Daichi is wearing normal clothes instead of a swimsuit. Why did he even think Daichi showed up in swimsuit in the first place? He can’t believe he’s this tipsy already.

 

Where Suga’s group is boisterous, Daichi’s group keeps up with their own brand of rowdy. They all mingle and one time Suga notices Kuroo throwing his arm around Michimiya’s shoulders, Iwaizumi is talking to one of the girls with a coy smile, Akaashi politely declining a drink Bokuto is offering, and Daichi next to him radiating warmth in the midst of summer heat. It might be a permanent feature of Daichi’s.

 

Late into the night, they mingle and talk and Suga keeps his promise to himself not to speak too much. If anyone notices that his drink is constantly refilled every time he runs out, they don’t call him out on it. It’s not like he’s abusing it, he only sips from time to time to keep the buzz going. It’s a pretty safe type of tipsy for him, his senses are slightly muted but not enough for him to lose that much balance. He figures the hangover isn’t worth the blackout drunk.

 

Half past midnight, everyone collectively agrees to go home. Everyone’s full and a bit buzzed, high on alcohol but mostly the joy from connecting to each other. If only Suga could feel that, too, maybe he would’ve enjoyed the night more. Right before the groups go separate ways, someone grabs Suga’s wrist.

 

It’s Daichi. His grip is loose enough for Suga to pull away, but finding himself a bit drunker than he thought, Suga chooses to indulge in his bizarre desire to stay close to Daichi. He can always blame the alcohol in the morning.

 

“Are you okay?” Daichi asks. He’s so earnest and Suga’s chest might kind of hurt from the sight.

 

“I will be,” Suga says, after weighing what’s the smart answer should be. “Thanks, Daichi.”

 

“Okay.” Daichi lets go of his wrist. “You just didn’t seem that excited. I hope you feel better soon.”

 

The fact that Daichi completely respects his privacy and doesn’t try pry takes Suga by surprise. Most people he knows have been quite... invasive to say the least. Kuroo and Akaashi have always had the ability to draw out answers from him even though he’s not ready. He doesn’t really mind, now, but it used to be really annoying how subtle those two can be. It’s plausible that this is his karma for always meddling in people’s business back when he had the time.

 

Daichi leaves him with a salute to go jog and catch up with his friends a bit ahead. Suga allows himself a sigh with no one around to witness it, before turning the other way and catches up with his group. It’s immediately obvious one prominent figure isn’t there.

 

“Where’s Kuroo?”

 

Iwaizumi answers by pointing a thumb towards the general direction Daichi took.

 

“He went home with Michimiya?” Suga almost yells. The few people still loitering around shoot him nasty glares. If only they knew the crisis he’s going through.

 

“Guess God works fast for Kuroo-san,” Akaashi says. Bokuto, who has been suspiciously silent since they left the izakaya, barks out a laugh. He sounds absolutely wasted.

 

They don’t talk about it again the rest of the way to the campsite, but Suga can’t help but be jealous of how easy and fast things work out for his friend. Suga isn’t as cunning as Kuroo, but he’s still pretty laidback and fun if he wants to. He also objectively knows that he isn’t half bad in the looks department. A bit pale and prone to getting freckles under too much sun, yeah, but still good looking.

 

As soon as they arrive at their tents, Suga enters his first without the thoughts of cleaning up on his mind. He’s midway into zipping himself in the sleeping bag when Iwaizumi enters to look for his toothbrush.

 

“Hey,” Suga addresses him. “’Night.”

 

Iwaizumi acknowledges him with a nod then pauses his movements. “You doing okay?”

 

Oh, he’s screwed. Daichi, he can trick, they’re strangers. This is Iwaizumi, and they’d known each other for years. It’s going to take a lot more than fake smiles and faked cheer to deceive Iwaizumi.

 

“Bit tired, is all,” Suga says. It’s not a lie nor is it the truth, but he hopes Iwaizumi would get off his back for now.

 

“Alright.” Iwaizumi still looks skeptical. “I’m here if you want to talk, though. Rest up for now. You got more surfing lessons tomorrow.”

 

The teasing at least causes Suga to crack a genuine smile. “Please, don’t remind me.”

 

Iwaizumi settles in his seat next to Suga’s sleeping bag, dental hygiene seems to be temporarily forgotten. “You know, if you hate it so much, you can quit.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Kuroo knows the instructors now. He’ll be fine. You don’t need to keep an eye on him anymore.”

 

“I know that.”

 

Iwaizumi tilts his head in confusion.

 

“It’s just...” Suga starts. “Uh, well, I guess surfing isn’t so bad.”

 

The surprise on Iwaizumi’s face is almost humiliating, but Suga doesn’t avert his eyes so he gets to see the surprise turn into something happier. “That’s nice! If the advertisement isn’t selling lies, by the end of this week we should be able to surf together.”

 

It’s certainly something to look forward to. Suga can’t honestly call himself as being troubled with it, because he catches himself genuinely excited. Planning things ahead has always had a way to calm his anxiety.

 

“Then,” Iwaizumi grunts as he rises to stand. “I’ll just go brush my teeth. Good night.”

 

It takes a few minutes after Iwaizumi leaves that Suga realizes, for a moment there, he totally forgot about Daichi and the bad mood the thought brings.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

The next few days have mostly been surfing lessons with Daichi. Suga, at some point, got over whatever he thought he felt during the first day. He figures he was probably taken aback by how nice and genuine Daichi is. The theory doesn’t explain the tightening in his stomach when Daichi gets too close or smiles a certain way at him, but he blames it on his anxiety. The most relieving thing of it all: Daichi doesn’t seem to notice. It would be the greatest mortification in one Sugawara Koushi’s life if he does notice.

 

Suga’s surfing is increasingly better now. Now that he has a certain goal to why he wants to be able to surf, he’s been working hard. He can stand on the board and he’s steady enough, at least until the waves come. The whitewater knocks Suga off the surfboard most of the time. The force of it is completely unexpected, and though Daichi did tell him this, it never ceases to catch him by surprise. Of course he succeeded a few times, but the progress is too slow. Daichi figures it’s because the waves are too harsh, so today they’re trying to surf in another beach with milder waves.

 

The beach is as beautiful as what Suga’s seen in pictures he googled. The water is clear blue and the sand is so white it’s almost pearly under the sunlight. There are many surfers at this beach, too, but their pace is more relaxed compared to the beach they usually practiced at.

 

It takes some time to adjust to the laxer atmosphere of the beach. Suga can’t count how many times he gets ready way too fast before the whitewater hits. The first few times he does topple, the next he wobbles a bit, but after that, it’s smooth sailing.

 

Suga gets out of the water with his surfboard under his armpit. Daichi is already waiting at the shoreline with a wide, toothed smile.

 

A surge of pride and appreciation tinged with so much warmth hits Suga at once, so abrupt that before he knows it, he already dropped the surfboard and tackled Daichi onto the ground. He’s a bit glad Daichi takes most of the impact, if the _oomph_ he emitted is of any hint, but Suga hides his smile. For something extremely impulsive, Suga doesn’t regret it. It gets a tad embarrassing when they sit up and pull away, then Daichi shoots him a questioning look.

 

Suga scoots to sit next to Daichi instead of in front of him. The surfboard is a few meters in front of them, but Suga is too lazy to move his butt again. He bumps his shoulder with Daichi’s lightly. “Thanks, dude. Now I can really surf.”

 

Daichi laughs, it’s a rumbling sound that makes Suga weirdly happy. “Eh, it’s my job, but you’re welcome. I’m happy you grew to like surfing.”

 

“Huh?” Suga knows what it’s like to be caught red-handed, and it’s been quite some time since he felt what it’s like, but this sure is a nice reminder. “How did you know...”

 

“You didn’t seem very enthusiastic at first, you didn’t put much effort into doing it...” Daichi rattles off. “I actually felt like you weren’t doing it for you. I still feel like you still do that, but it’s much better now because you actually enjoy surfing.”

 

The explanation leaves Suga slack jawed. “That’s... very observant of you, Daichi.”

 

Daichi playfully punches his shoulder, taking it as Suga making fun of him. The day immediately immediately brightens.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

On Saturday, Suga is finally allowed to try to surf at the beach they initially trained at. Daichi wasn’t in favor with the idea, but finally caved in. There’s a lifeguard, and Daichi will be there surfing alongside him, so Suga isn’t really afraid of doing it.

 

The waves are harsh alright, but Suga is nothing but stubborn. It’s best to get this over with, he just wants to surf with his friends by tomorrow.

 

Suga picks a spot and Daichi is a bit farther in front of him, watching him. He can hear the whitewater coming, but he never prepared himself for the slam of water knocking the breath out of him and dunking him into the water. The only pain he can feel is the burning in his nose, the back of his throat, and his lungs.

 

It’s hard to stay calm, this is literally his initial fear before he started surfing, but he remembers the last thing he saw before he went down was Daichi, stricken with terror and mouth open as if calling out to him. It gives him a push to submerge and quickly latch onto his surfboard. At least let him let Daichi know that he’s alright.

 

The waves are now not as volatile as the one that toppled him off his board. It’s when Suga realizes Daichi is nowhere in sight that panic laces through him. Maybe he called the lifeguard?

 

Suga’s heart falls when he spots Daichi’s surfboard floating a few meters in front of him. He takes a few deep breaths, calming himself, and scans the area. No lifeguards have turned up yet, and Suga refrains himself from getting angry before wading the water to get to Daichi’s surfboard. His leg hits something solid under the water and he yelps. Panic greets him again when he realizes what that something solid might be.

 

 _Oh, no. No fucking way_ , he thinks. With a lungful of air, Suga goes back under the water. He doesn’t even care how much his eyes hurt being exposed to saltwater. There, right there, the last thing Suga ever wanted, is Daichi. He’s unconscious and it seems like he just lost consciousness and stopped thrashing recently because he hasn’t floated back up yet.

 

Suga drags him up, but he’s still unconscious and unbearably pale. It’s impossible to swim with Daichi in tow while also bringing the abandoned surfboards, so Suga works in quick motions to get as far as he can manage from the surfboards to avoid getting hurt when the waves come again. He furiously waves at a lifeguard post when he gets closer to the shoreline. As a lifeguard makes his way to them, Suga periodically checks Daichi’s vitals. It’s there, but fluttery and terrifyingly weak.

 

With the lifeguard, bringing Daichi to land takes less time. Just as the lifeguard is about to crouch next to Daichi, Suga holds up a finger. “I’m a doctor, it’s fine. The surfboards, please.”

 

The lifeguard is young and he seems as panicked as Suga feels, but apparently Suga’s got him convinced and he runs back to the water to retrieve the surfboards.

 

Suga shifts his attention to Daichi again. He makes sure the airway is clear before performing CPR on Daichi. Most of it is autopilot, with his mind supplying unhelpful things like how pale Daichi is, how he’s blowing air into Daichi’s mouth, how his own body is aching, how close he is to having a panic attack, how it’s been quite some time since he’s felt Daichi breathe, etc. It feels like eternity until Daichi coughs up water and wheezes to take in as much as air as possible. The lifeguard reappears but Suga is still tense. “Daichi?”

 

Daichi’s gaze is a bit dazed, but it clears after a few blinks. “Hey, Suga.” His voice is coarse.

 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” This time, the lifeguard asks.

 

Daichi sits up and winces, and from how he moves, Suga already knows he got hurt. “I think, the surfboard slammed into my side.”

 

“How severe?” Suga dislikes how detached his voice sounds, but he knows he needs to be as clinical as possible.

 

“It’s gonna bruise, at most,” Daichi murmurs, feeling the side of his body gingerly. “No, I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

 

“What the hell happened out there?” the lifeguard hisses. Suga almost hisses back, but he’s too exhausted to point out how inattentive the lifeguard had been.

 

“Suga fell first and I panicked that the water crashed onto me, too,” Daichi says, his voice gaining strength. “Also the thing with the surfboard? Yeah. Shocked the air out of me, I guess.”

 

The lifeguard leaves with the promise of coming back with water before Daichi speaks up again. “Did you perform CPR on me?”

 

Still exhausted, Suga can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed. “Yeah, I did. You taste salty.”

 

“I mean, I did just drown in the ocean,” Daichi replies.

 

Suga punches him in the arm. “And I won’t hesitate to drown you myself next time if you ever make me worried like that again.”

 

“Wow, is that how you speak to your teachers?”

 

Suga notices how Daichi doesn’t cling onto the ‘next time’.

 

“You’re not my teacher anymore,” Suga answers. “That was our last lesson.”

 

“Ah, right. Some last lesson it was.” Daichi sighs, his tone and expression turning wistful. Honestly, Suga feels it, too, and it doesn’t feel right that their last lesson ended like that. With Daichi fucking drowning.

 

“Daichi, I’m so—”

 

“No, please don’t apologize,” Daichi cuts him off with a reassuring smile. Suga isn’t very reassured.

 

They sit in silence, Suga paying the closest attention to Daichi’s breathing to see if there’s any hint of pain. The relaxed way he sits indicates that the pain already considerably subsided, but Suga can’t help but fret over every single movement Daichi makes.

 

“Suga,” Daichi calls out. “It’s fine, I’m fine.”

 

“No, you’re not,” Suga interjects.

 

Daichi huffs out a laugh. Suga is a bit relieved that it’s as soft and warm as usual. “Yeah, I’m not. But I will be. It’s not my first time getting injured, and it’s not the worst. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

 

It takes some time before Suga finally relaxes and lies down on the sand. It takes another moment before the young lifeguard reappears with a few bottles of water and ice pack. They chat for a while to placate the lifeguard—mostly Daichi—convincing that everything’s under control and Daichi doesn’t need a speedboat to Tokyo.

 

Daichi drinks a bottle of water until it’s empty and heaves a long sigh after he’s done. Suga hands him the ice pack, always at the ready. When Daichi lifts up his shirt, Suga averts his eyes on instinct. It’s a weird thing to do, but even the sight of Daichi’s bare skin sends heat up his cheeks.

 

The medically trained part of him wins and he assesses Daichi’s side. A bruise is already starting to form, and it’s nasty the way bruises are, but not as bad as he thought. “Yeah, you just need to rest and ice it regularly until it goes away,” Suga affirms. “Avoid bumping into things with your right side for now. Your ribs are probably tender.”

 

“Thank you, Suga,” Daichi responds, smiling tenderly. Suga feels like it’s him who has been bodychecked by a surfboard in rough waters instead.

 

The lifeguard calls someone to help bring the surfboards to Daichi’s shop. Not long after, he leaves them to stand at his post again nearby.

 

“Hey, Suga,” Daichi says. “If it bothers you so much, you can always treat me to a dinner next time.”

 

 _Next time_. The two words echo in Suga’s mind, echoing in his chest cavity and sending vibrations in it. It’s not much, but it’s still a sign Daichi doesn’t mind hanging out with him. He wipes away the sweat in his brow to hide his smile. “Sounds nice.”

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

It’s only later when Suga is sitting down, reading a book in front of the tents that he remembers something important. He forgot to ask Daichi if it’s okay for him to surf tomorrow. Niijima is really small, yes, but chances are Daichi won’t be in the shop tomorrow. The guy’s got resting to do.

 

A raucous laugh sounds a few meters from where he’s half lying down next to Akaashi. It comes from Kuroo who’s grilling fish with Bokuto and Iwaizumi. Realization dawns on him. Kuroo has Daichi’s number. God, why didn’t Suga think of that sooner?

 

Suga’s not ready to ask yet, because it will open a gate to a flood of conversations about Daichi. Suga doesn’t think his friends know about Daichi drowning because of him, not a lot of people seemed to notice them earlier. He’s not just about to casually tell his friends, “Hey, someone almost died because of me,” over dinner, is he? It doesn’t sound like something someone just throw out there with no worries.

 

“Suga-san,” Akaashi calls softly. Suga still jumps and drops his book. His friend waits until he picks his book up again. “Are you okay?”

 

Is he okay?

 

“Damn you, Akaashi,” Suga curses. “You always find a way to see through me.”

 

Akaashi faintly smiles and fiddles with his fingers, looking away. Suga knows better than to think that he will get ignored if he speaks, so he tests the water. “There was an incident with Daichi earlier today.”

 

“Yeah?” Akaashi questions, still looking away. It makes Suga feel a lot better in the weirdest way.

 

“I kinda got hit by the waves and Daichi panicked that he also drowned, even though I was actually okay.”

 

Suga says it all in one breath, figuring it’d be like ripping off a band-aid. It scares him a little when Akaashi stays still and silent, but then Akaashi turns at him. Like usual, his face is set in indifference, but the familiarity of it brings Suga comfort.

 

“Is he okay?” Akaashi asks and his tone is casual, as if they’re not talking about someone’s life almost getting lost. And not just _someone_ , but Daichi.

 

“He will be. He just needs rest.” Suga rolls with it.

 

“You’re still worried,” Akaashi points out. Sometimes, this time being one of those times, Suga hates how perceptive Akaashi is.

 

“It was my fault.”

 

“Hm, not entirely.”

 

“At least partly, then,” Suga counters. Akaashi shrugs.

 

“I’m just saying, Suga-san. Don’t take the blame. He wasn’t being careful with himself and frankly, I’m glad it didn’t end up with you getting hurt, too.”

 

It’s the more than Akaashi usually says, but he says it in such a flat tone that to their friends by the grill, it probably sounds like boring talk. Only Bokuto shoots them looks from time to time, but never making a move to get closer. Suga wants to be angry, but he can’t disagree with Akaashi’s point, and arguing is too much work when his body is exhausted to the bones.

 

“Dinner’s ready!” Kuroo exclaims, cutting through the silence. Iwaizumi and Bokuto prepares the stuff for dinner and they all sit down on the mat.

 

The air is slightly breezy but still warm. Not too far from them, the beach is calm. The sun sets steadily as they ring out their gratitude for the meal. Laughter and chatters fill the air alongside the clinking of utensils against utensils. Surrounded by the people he loves, Suga feels significantly calmer than before, feels like he will be okay, too.

 

After cleaning up after himself, Suga goes up to Kuroo casually. At least as casual as he can muster. The others are lying on the mat, either on their phones—Bokuto and Iwaizumi—or reading a book—Akaashi. Suga and Kuroo are both out of their friends’ earshot, a bit farther from where the grill stands.

 

“Hey, do you still have Daichi’s number?” Suga asks, keeping his tone uninterested and easy.

 

“Daichi?” Kuroo repeats.

 

“Oh, Sawamura. The surfing guy.”

 

“Ohhh...” Kuroo nods slowly. “Yeah, I do. Do you need his number?”

 

Suga swiftly nods, and revels in how efficient he covers up his awkwardness. “Yup. I got some questions I forgot to ask.”

 

“Including asking his number, apparently,” Kuroo shoots back, grinning. Suga rolls his eyes. “I’ll text you his number.”

 

With a brief thanks and a pat on Kuroo’s shoulder, Suga walks as fast as he can to his tent. It’s a bit stifling with how warm it is inside, but not so much as to bother him. As promised, there’s a new text from Kuroo on his phone, the content is just a phone number.

 

For some reason or another, Suga feels nervous about texting Daichi. Is he disrupting Daichi’s privacy, in a way? Does Daichi really not blame him for drowning? What if Daichi doesn’t want to hang out with Suga and the dinner thing was just a friendly offer?

 

What would Kuroo do, if he were in Suga’s position?

 

Kuroo would be bold and call right away. Definitely. But Suga is not Kuroo, and what would he even say to Daichi? He knows that him fumbling with words isn’t attractive—not that he cares whether or not Daichi finds him attractive, but still.

 

Texting, it is.

 

 _Hey, it's Suga. What's the verdict on my surfing?_ It's simple enough and Suga sends it before he can regret and retype.

 

In the following one and a half minute, Suga bites hard on his bottom lip out of anxiety. The sound of new text sends him jumping, and for a second he's relieved he's alone in the tent, then he quickly becomes distracted by the text itself.

 

 _Surf at the beach with milder waves. You'll be fine. - Daichi_ , the text says. Suga wants to fixate on the fact that Daichi didn't even ask how Suga got his number, as if he has been waiting, but that's just reaching.

 

 _Will you, though?_ Suga asks. _How bad does it hurt?_

 

 _Nah, it's fine. Just a bruise_ , comes the reply. As Suga is halfway through typing an apology, another text comes in. _And don't you dare apologize. Told you I'm fine & it's not your fault. _

 

As if Suga has been needing confirmation all this time, the sigh he lets out feels like all his tense muscles sighing along in relief. Not knowing exactly what he's doing, he's already calling Daichi.

 

He stares blankly for a millisecond at Daichi's caller ID before it clicks in and he drops his phone as if it's on fire.

 

"Hi-- hello?" A tinny voice sounds from the earpiece.

 

Suga picks up his phone with his thumb and pointer finger, holding it close to his ear. "Um, hey there," he greets back. Damn, his voice must have sounded so ugly on the other side.

 

Daichi's answering familiar chuckle resonates through Suga's bones. "What's up?" Daichi asks, voice as friendly and light as usual.

 

 _Quick, make something up_ , Suga thinks. "Just wanted to check up on you. Figured I could detect any hint of misery or pain through your voice."

 

Suga is in the middle of thinking _what the fuck_ to himself when Daichi shoots back, teasingly, "Well, can you? Are you detecting any pain and misery?"

 

"Yeah, go back to licking your bruises, Sawamura."

 

Daichi laughs again. It's always nice when people laugh at your jokes, but coming from Daichi, it sure feels like a badge of approval. Though Suga doesn't know why he would need it in the first place.

 

"Okay, but seriously, I'm fine."

 

And Suga believes him. As nice as Daichi is, Suga is better at reading people, and now, unclouded by his anxiety, he _knows_ that Daichi means it.

 

"Hmm. That dinner-- we should talk about that," Suga says, before he can stop himself. He grimaces as he replays what he just said over and over in his mind.

 

"Oh, that's true!" Daichi almost exclaims. "There's this good diner, we can check it out. See if you like it. It's cheap, too, so that's pretty nice."

 

Suga wants to interject, insisting that as long as Daichi finds it tasteful, Suga will, too. But it sounds way too clingy and he doesn't want to scare Daichi away. They're on their way at becoming good friends and Suga isn't about to throw that away.

 

"Sure, that sounds nice. When are you available?" Suga asks, hoping that the nervousness he feels doesn't leak into his voice.

 

"Since it's summer and I'm taking a break from the shop and stuff… I'm pretty available," Daichi answers, laughing a little. Suga pretends he doesn't blush and chuckles along. "Tuesday or Wednesday sound good to you? I'll pick you up at the campsite."

 

Suga voices his agreement, though Suga being Suga, he needed to be difficult first. He insists that Daichi picking him up is unnecessary, but they find a loophole when Suga realizes he doesn't know his way around.

 

Ending the call is awkward, they keep laughing awkwardly to each other and not knowing who should end the call first.

 

For the second time that night, Suga drops his phone when someone barges into the camp. It's Iwaizumi and he's bringing _a lot_ of sand into the tent.

 

"Iwa, what the fuck?" Suga yells. "Get out! Get the fuck out, why are you covered in sand? Piss off!"

 

When Iwaizumi stumbles out, cackling, Suga can hear scuffling and thumping, presumably his other friends playing around. Explains the sand. He can't believe he's been so immersed in the phone call that he didn't notice.

 

Oh, the phone call.

 

Scrambling to pick the phone up again, Suga feels disappointment filling his stomach when he finds out that the line is dead. He sighs and sprawls on top of his sleeping bag, the air still too hot for him to get into it.

 

His phone goes off again, and how fast he snatches his phone again is honestly embarrassing if anyone was to see. It's a text from Daichi and he can't help but smile.

 

 _I feel bad for whoever you cursed out_ , it says. Involuntarily, Suga's smile gets wider. He leaves the text as it is, not knowing how to respond. It takes him a few minutes to stop smiling so much as he exits the tent.

 

Akaashi is lying on the picnic mat, looking unusually dejected. Like he's been telling off three oversized children for the past hour. Suga grimaces in sympathy.

 

"What are they up to?" Suga asks, not really wanting to know.

 

"They're rolling each other down the sand." Akaashi points to the direction of the beach literally within a few steps from where they are. Suga sighs. "Who were you talking to?"

 

Suga makes garbled noises, not knowing what to answer. "Uh, Daichi?" he answers uncertainly.

 

Akaashi makes a noncommittal sound and sits up to drink some water. "Did he find out his ribs are actually broken or something equally bad?"

 

It takes a moment before Suga realizes it's a joke. Akaashi does have that kind of dry humor. "No… I was just asking him if I could surf with you guys tomorrow." Suga shrugs, mentally celebrating how steady his voice is.

 

"Yeah?" Akaashi says. Suga nods. "That's nice."

 

"It is."

 

"Will he be joining?"

 

"No, Akaashi," Suga snaps, appalled. "He needs time to recover, duh."

 

The response Akaashi gives is a mere shrug before Suga is left to his own devices again. There are roars of laughter in the distance, Suga can barely make it out, but he knows it's his friends.  

 

Exhaustion hits him again when the excitement from talking to Daichi fully subsides. If he was bone tired before, he needs to find a deeper expression to convey the tiredness he feels.

 

Suga walks into the tent again, settling into his sleeping bag after a long day. His fingers absently hover over his phone, and for one reason or the other, Suga doesn't find himself surprised when he gets another text from Daichi. It's simple but thoughtful, and it warms Suga enough from the inside to last for the entire night.

 

 _Good night, Suga_.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

Sunday comes and goes. Suga's surfing goes seamlessly in milder waves, just like Daichi promised. The first time he surfed properly, it was a mostly heady, overwhelming feeling, but surfing the waves with his friends is another thing. Granted, it's pretty hard to focus on anything except surfing once you're in the water, especially because Suga's still a beginner, but as they all ride prone from the last of the waves, he notices they all have matching grins. Even Akaashi.

 

It's one of those fast days where suddenly dusk falls and you don't know where the time goes. They're all sprawled partially on top of each other on the picnic mat, exhausted but content. No one says anything for a while, but Akaashi, being the voice of reason, speaks up. "We should eat."

 

There are grunts of agreement but it takes a bit longer for them to get up and actually look for some food. While they eat, Iwaizumi looks particularly thoughtful that Suga needs to point it out.

 

"It's nothing, just that we have two more weeks to stay here but it's a small island. There aren't a lot of things to do," Iwaizumi lists. "Just the beaches, the observatory spots, should I count the museum?"

 

"Yeah, count the museum," Akaashi mumbles.

 

"Even then we still don't have much to do, isn't that boring?"

 

Bokuto and Kuroo seem to consider, too, but if anyone is going to take anything from Suga, it will never be this trip. "Well, we did come here to relax, didn't we?" Suga implores. "Coming back to Tokyo so early will just give us headache."

 

Akaashi perks up a little bit, probably unnoticeable to their friends but not to Suga who's sitting directly next to him. Suga mentally jots this down.

 

"We haven't gone to all the beaches and we haven't even visited any observatory sites," Kuroo notes, munching on his food. "I heard there's a hiking trail. Let's do that."

 

Suga wants to complain and be pissy about it, they really escaped college and volleyball to voluntarily tire themselves out with hiking? Who needs to work out when they can just sleep their stress away listening to the crash of waves?

 

"Hey, hey, don't forget," Bokuto grumbles around his rice. "We're moving into an inn next week, right?"

 

"Oh, damn, yeah! I forgot." Iwaizumi clucks his tongue. "Have you guys looked into it? We better book now, it's summer and who knows how many more people need the rooms."

 

"I already booked it," Akaashi supplies helpfully. "It's not the best spot but it's within walking distance from and to anywhere."

 

"Anything you choose is perfect, Akaashi!" Bokuto exclaims. Suga isn't sure if Akaashi notices the smile Bokuto shoots his way.

 

With that, another day ends.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

Tuesday comes too slow and too fast. The texts Daichi sends him keep Suga entertained, but it makes him more excited to see Daichi. On the other hand, he's nervous because dinner seems a bit… more formal. During their surfing lessons everything comes so naturally, so casual, but what if there's a buffer between them when they meet up for the dinner?

 

Suga hasn't told any of his friends yet, it's not like it's important enough to be telling everyone about. It's just Daichi, and they're two friends going out for some dinner so Suga can repay Daichi for the trouble he's given him.

 

The clock is crawling towards the designated time for Daichi to come pick Suga up. Anxiety claws itself up Suga's spine and he tries his best to ignore his thoughts saying _he's not coming, he's standing you up_.

 

Suga’s thoughts break when he hears some yelling and warm laughter. He looks up to see his friends bump shoulders with Daichi, Bokuto is even thumping his back, and before he knows it he’s already taking big strides towards Daichi.

 

The other night, Suga didn’t fully pay attention to Daichi. But now that the guy is in plain sight, something in Suga’s stomach flutters. Quenching it down, he smiles and salutes Daichi. His friends leave them alone to do something Suga isn’t keen on knowing.

 

“Hey,” Daichi says.

 

“Hi,” Suga calls back.

 

Daichi is wearing a shirt that’s a bit stretched around the shoulders and some khaki pants, but it fits him so well that to Suga, Daichi is wearing fancy clothes. Seeing himself only wearing some muscle tee and ripped jeans, he kind of wants to swim the whole way to Tokyo, simply out of embarrassment.

 

“Should I change into something else?” Suga finally musters up the courage to ask. “I thought this was going to be casual.”

 

“It is, Suga. Don’t worry. You look fine.”

 

Suga is suddenly glad it’s getting dark, at least that way his blush won’t be too obvious. No one should be able to make him this flustered, least of all Daichi.

 

“Okay. Let’s go, then,” Suga ushers. “Lead the way?”

 

“No. Walk beside me.”

 

Suga just hums, not entirely trusting his voice not to crack if he answers. He falls into steps with Daichi while they make small talk. After a few furtive glances, Suga notes how Daichi’s usually mussed hair is now combed back. It seems like Daichi really prepared himself for the date, and Suga—

 

Dinner. It’s dinner.

 

For the remainder of the walk, Suga stays silent and keeps his mind empty.

 

They stop walking when they reach a cozy diner. Suga notices foreigners inside and gets nervous instantly. Daichi did say it’s cheap, but what if their definition of cheap differs?

 

“Go ahead,” Daichi says, opening the door. God, he’s not even trying to make this _not_ a date. Suga wants to go home and study, cramming the structure of the human body is less complicated than deciding what Daichi’s motives are.

 

Suga still regrets his outfit. People inside are dressed casually like him, it’s not a fancy restaurant or some sort, but at least if Daichi gets to impress him, then he gets to impress Daichi, too.

 

The waitress taking their order is nice, and though Suga doesn’t need to worry about the price, it’s still relieving to know that yes, Daichi’s definition of cheap aligns with Suga’s. It’s affordable.

 

“You come here often?” Suga asks, running out of topics to talk about.

 

“I used to, yeah. When I was still in high school. This is your first time here, right?”

 

“Yup,” Suga chuckles a little, loosening up. “We went to that sushi place once but we mostly eat at izakayas.”

 

Daichi grins. “Well, now that you got me, you’re free to ask me to guide you around. I know good spots and cheap places.”

 

“Hm,” Suga hums. “I’ll think about it.”

 

“How much longer are you staying?” Daichi asks, his voice is a bit nervous.

 

“Less than two weeks, I think. By the end of next week we got to go back to Tokyo, uni is starting soon.” Suga shrugs. “I think we’re moving into an inn this week. Do you know any cheap, nice ones?”

 

“Sleeping in the nature tires you out?” Daichi teases. Suga threatens to throw a chopstick at him. “I know some, but it’s literally in the middle of the island. So, you won’t have the best view.”

 

“Everywhere is within walking distance in this island, I think we can handle an inn without an incredible view of the sea. I’ll tell Kuroo later.”

 

It sounds a lot like the inn Akaashi described, but Suga will take anything as an excuse to prolong the conversation. It’s so bizarre after quite some time that Suga feels this big of a need to have someone’s attention on him. He musters up the courage to ask more things.

 

“You said you go to college in Tokyo?” Suga prompts. It’s obviously a topic that Daichi seems keen to talk about, because the guy just lights up. Not only his face, but his whole body just seems to lift up. His shoulders and back are straighter and his eyes are alert, bright, and it makes Suga extremely happy.

 

“Yeah, I go to Waseda,” Daichi answers proudly. He should really be, because Suga is having difficulties to shut his open mouth. Waseda is an excellent school and Suga is honestly impressed that Daichi could get in. He’s not even questioning Daichi’s intelligence—though the guy certainly act goofy sometimes—but it’s generally difficult to get accepted there.

 

“That is honestly awesome,” Suga draws out, finally. It doesn’t come close to the admiration he has for Daichi right now, but he hopes the way he conveys it is enough. “Waseda is also not too far from my campus.”

 

Before Daichi can say anything else, the waitress brings them their food and cuts the conversation short. Suga surprises himself by feeling relieved. As much as he likes talking to Daichi, he’s only now realized how much effort and energy he’s putting into impressing Daichi. It’s not like Daichi cares. He loosens himself up and tries to relax, that way he will enjoy the dinner more.

 

They dig in and make small talks in between chewing their food. Just as Daichi said, the food is good and it’s totally up Suga’s alley. Daichi even requests extra hot pepper for Suga. They eat until they’re full and they decide to sit around for a bit longer.

 

“I’m so full, I need a minute,” Suga says tiredly.

 

“Or two,” Daichi adds, sounding equally sleepy. It hasn’t even hit the two minute mark when Daichi sits up and stretches. Suga groans out loud, eliciting a laugh out of Daichi. “Get up, lazy ass. We’re going on a walk.”

 

As Suga pays for the food, Daichi waits for him outside. Suga decides to order some more dumplings just in case before catching up to Daichi. The air is humid but breezy and Suga breathes and revels in the scent of ocean.

 

“You like the ocean that much?” Daichi asks, startling him.

 

“The ocean is cool. It has a calming effect to me when I’m not swimming in it.”

 

Daichi’s laugh rings out again, accompanying their steps to nowhere. Suga wonders what he’d be doing right now if he never met Daichi and never went on this not-date with him. Would he still be sleeping alcohol off his system? Would he be stressing over college? His mind is empty of possibility. Meeting Daichi and spending time with him feels like something inevitable, there’s no other better alternative to spending his time on the island.

 

“Where are we going?” Suga asks, as soon as he realizes their walking direction ceases to be aimless.

 

“My house,” Daichi responds, looking nervous. “Do you mind? Do you have something else to do?”

 

Suga’s heart might have skipped a beat or two, but he congratulates himself on keeping his poise. “No, actually, I don’t have anything to do.” Suga coolly shrugs, continuing their stride. “I’m sorry for intruding in advance.”

 

“No, god, not at all!” Daichi waves his hands, trying to cover his relief but failing. “My parents are away on a vacation, so it’s chill.”

 

As the night gets deeper, Suga believes less and less that this is not a date. Suga doesn’t know much about things like this, seeing that he’s never dated anyone seriously since school has always been his utmost priority, but his friends sure as hell don’t treat him like this. If the love life articles he accidentally stumbled upon were saying the truth, Daichi might really be into him—the lingering touches, the too long and intense gazes, the private smiles. Even now it’s taking every willpower Suga has to not put a distance between him and Daichi, because he won’t lie to himself and say that he doesn’t actually want this.

 

They take a turn to the left and stops in front of a quaint house. It looks cozy with touches of traditional architecture. Daichi opens the front door and cocks his head towards inside the house, telling Suga to go ahead in.

 

Out of habit, Suga still hollers his apology for intruding. The genkan immediately opens to the living room with kitchen at the front and closed doors that Suga presumes are bedrooms. There are sliding doors at the end of the living room and Daichi rushes to pry them open.

 

The cool wind embraces Suga and he slumps down next the low table in the middle of the living room. Daichi is busy in the kitchen and Suga doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they just had dinner, but it turns out Daichi is just bringing out some barley tea.

 

“Oh, my dumplings,” Suga suddenly remembers, putting the plastic bag on the table. “Do you have a plate?”

 

Daichi is already up and back at the table before Suga can finish talking. Well, it sure is nice to know that Suga isn’t the only one excited. Though Daichi just looks like an overexcited puppy with his tail wagging. It brings a smile to Suga’s lips and he lets it manifest instead of pushing the urge down.

 

“Eat one, I feel bad if I eat alone,” Suga ushers, already stuffing his mouth with a dumpling. Daichi hesitates at first, but his uncertainty vanishes as soon as he has a dumpling of his own. They happily eat the dumplings and pause every few chews to drink.

 

“So,” Suga starts, right after gulping down the last of his dumpling. “You’re taking over the shop while your dad’s gone?”

 

“Yup. It would also be a great teaching experience for me, and I also got to know you while I’m at it,” Daichi explains. “My dad’s a professional surfer and I got his gift, but I never really wanted to pursue a career of it. My parents also aren’t pushy about what I want to do.”

 

Suga props his face with his palms on the table. “Why education, though?”

 

“Ah, yeah, I figured this question would come,” Daichi laughs, running a hand through his hair. “At first I wasn’t really sure about what I want to do. But during two last years of high school I began helping my dad coach people—nothing big, just something like correcting their posture.” Daichi breathes through his teeth, looking content to look back and reminisce. “And I found joy doing it. It made me happy when people thanked me for helping them learn something new and be better at it. It’s a bit cliche, but, yeah.”

 

For a moment, Suga stays silent, not knowing how to respond. So much raw passion and earnest desire to help get thrown at his face and he doesn’t know what to do with them. It cracks something in him, as deep as bones, because it reminds him of his old self. When being a medical student wasn’t just stress, when he was genuinely excited to start his journey on becoming a doctor.

 

Daichi snaps him out of it—literally, snapping his fingers in front of Suga’s face. “Did I lose you just then?” Daichi asks, not unkindly. Suga can totally see Daichi as a teacher, his patience can be bottomless.

 

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t ignoring you.”

 

Daichi waves it off, but there’s a small frown on his face. “Are you getting tired?”

 

Suga sees the bait even though Daichi doesn’t and he quickly latches onto it. “I think, yeah. I can stay here a bit longer, though. If you don’t mind, of course.”

 

The way Daichi’s shoulders go up in excitement nearly makes Suga do the exact same thing, but he catches himself before he can do that. The thing about Daichi that Suga has always noticed from the start is that how he can influence people with his mood and behavior. Daichi has an aura of power and authority.

 

“Oh, I really want to show you something,” Daichi says. Suga nods at him as a green light. It’s fascinating to see Daichi maneuver around the living room, going through shelves and drawers around the TV until he stops and finds what he was looking for.

 

It’s a wide book with hardcover. The cover has large letters that spell out _NIIJIMA HIGH SCHOOL_. Suga instantly knows it’s Daichi’s yearbook. Though why Daichi wants to show him that, he doesn’t know.

 

“Some of my friends from high school don’t go home this summer, so I can’t introduce you, but I can show you them from here.” Daichi takes up a seat right next to Suga on the floor after splaying out the yearbook on the table. Warmth radiates from Daichi, and Suga absentmindedly inches closer. “There’s also Yui in here. She’s going to be furious if she knows I’m showing you this.”

 

“Yeah?” Suga says. “What about you? Where’s your picture?”

 

The question doesn’t prompt the reaction Suga expected. Instead of getting pale _then_ blushing from embarrassment, Daichi looks like he doesn’t mind at all. This way, Suga doesn’t have any leverage on Sawamura Daichi.

 

A few pages in, Daichi points a spot on the page. It’s the class 3-4 page, and Daichi is among the faces. Suga understands why Daichi has nothing to be embarrassed about. The guy literally hasn’t changed at all except for his hair.

 

Daichi looks more mature now, but it’s so subtle that Suga can’t pinpoint exactly what changed from two years ago. Daichi in the yearbook has shorter hair, the only shocking change, but even then his hair looks mussed up and he barely had bangs.

 

Looking at Daichi now, Suga takes in the way his bangs constantly fall into his eyes from time to time, the fact that his slightly shaggy hair is wavy and stuck up at odd places from getting mussed up so often. It’s beautiful.

 

“Oh, here’s Yui!” Daichi exclaims and Suga forces himself to drag his gaze away from Daichi. It’s the girl instructor, Michimiya, and maybe Daichi finds it amusing somehow, but she had shorter hair, too.

 

“So, uh, you were in 3-4,” Suga notes. Daichi nods, if anything a bit bashfully. “You should take pride in being smart, Daichi. I was in 3-4, too, in high school.”

 

Daichi perks up. “Hey, that’s awesome.”

 

“It kind of is.” Suga smiles. “What do you think will happen if we went to the same school in the same class?”

 

“I think,” Daichi ponders, scratching the side of his jaw thoughtfully. “You’d be my best friend.”

 

The answer feels like a kick to the gut. It takes Suga a beat too long to respond with a muttered, “you’d be mine, too,” which Daichi doesn’t seem to notice.

 

A kick to the gut, a splash of cold water, anything you can think of—it’s awakening. Suga needs to get his head out of his ass and see the bigger picture. Daichi genuinely just wants to be his friend, that’s it. He shouldn’t go looking for patterns that aren’t there.

 

“Daichi, hey, I think I better get going now,” Suga decides aloud. Ignoring the way Daichi noticeably deflates, he gets up first and pretends to stretch.

 

Being a good host, Daichi doesn’t let that hinder his hospitality and stays friendly and chipper towards Suga. Suga is starting to feel annoyed again, the way he did during that time they hung out while bringing their respective group of friends. Has everything always been a figment of his imagination? And now that truth has been thrown back at him, disappointment is all that’s left to well at the base of his stomach.

 

Daichi bumps his shoulder with a fist as a goodbye. Walking away farther and farther from the house, Suga can feel his pretenses also melting away. He’s tired of acting like he doesn’t feel anything, with everything bottled up inside him, and now he can already feel a headache building behind the bridge of his nose.

 

Suga makes sure to stop by a convenience store to buy some painkillers. While the cashier rings up his stuff, he plays the moments he has with Daichi over and over, trying to see each frame as objectively as possible.

 

“Here you go,” the cashier nudges a plastic bag his way. Suga thanks her and she, while blowing a gum, just nods back. What a cool lady, she probably has her life in control.

 

Suga can’t stop sighing during the walk back to the campsite. It’s an unfortunately short walk, when all Suga really needs right now some time alone. He doesn’t want to get lost if he takes a different turn, so he decides to take a walk down the beach instead.

 

The air is cool and salty. Darkness engulfs him and a few other people still hanging around. The moon is a big orb of radiance, reflecting off the water and the gentle glow embraces him. Like this, with the steady crashing of waves, Suga feels at peace. His mind clears and his distress gradually vanishes, though not completely, it still feels amazing.

 

His headache dulls as his steps sink into soft sand. Suddenly reminded by the searing heat of Tokyo and how busy the streets are, Suga really wishes he can stay here for a while longer. One and a half week feels too close, just around the corner, and he wants to savor this to his best ability.

 

But there’s also Daichi, and the thought stops Suga in his tracks. One of the best thing that’s ever happened to him on this island is Daichi, though how adventurous the emotional rollercoaster Daichi puts Suga in says a lot.

 

Sighing for what feels like the hundredth time, Suga trudges up a bit to the drier sand and plops down. Guess tonight he will be the one covered in sand and his friends are just going to have to deal with it.

 

Giving into temptation, he takes out his phone and bites his lip when he sees the notifications. There are Instagram comments, news, and some texts from his friends, asking where he is, also Daichi. It immediately stresses Suga out again, reading the content of the text.

 

_Hope you had as much fun as I did. Thanks for treating me dinner and keeping me company. ‘Night, Suga._

 

Suga weighs the pros and cons of flinging his phone towards the sea. Deciding there’s too many cons, he ends up letting his phone drop onto the sand, making a soft _thump_. He rubs his face with his palm, continuing to comb back his hair with his fingers and grab at it in frustration. At this point his hair is going to look like Kuroo’s.

 

He props his elbows with his knees and buries his face in his palm. Distinctly he can hear his inside voice reprimanding him to not touch his face with dirty hands, but his headache muffles it.

 

This was supposed to be a vacation of unwinding, feeling this stressed should be illegal. This is why Suga never commits to a long term relationship on top of his studies. As a college student, with friends as wild as his friends, of course he’s done parties and hookups. He even experimented with guys, but it doesn’t feel like him. The whole time it felt like putting up a persona of someone who knows how to have fun and it still feels like that now, but his attraction towards Daichi is purely him. He’s not pretending to be someone else and his feelings completely catch him off guard.

 

With a slow breath through his teeth, Suga rises, not forgetting to pick up his phone, and halfheartedly brushes away the sand on his butt. When he unlocks his phone, the screen still shows Daichi’s text. Suga looks up at the starts and begs for strength and shoots back, _I did. Goodnight._

 

It sounds a bit cold and impersonal, but that’s exactly what Suga was aiming for. He has no more debts to Daichi and after this he can enjoy his time on the island without worrying about Daichi. After this, he can spend his remaining one and a half week with his friends on Niijima, and he doesn’t need to be associated with Daichi ever again. Even Kuroo already draws away from his instructor right after the last surfing lesson, surely Suga can do the same.

 

The thought sustains him during his walk to the campsite until he passes out in his sleeping bag.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

The next few days, Suga and Akaashi has been dragged along by their boisterous friends to hot springs. It’s relaxing and Suga falls asleep during the bath not only once. His tense muscles loosen up and he can sense his stress level going down.

 

It’s therapeutic to a degree, enough to even drown Suga’s feelings demanding attention. He’s smart enough to keep ignoring, though, but he allows himself some slack for now.

 

Texts from Daichi still come, just greetings and _how are you_ ’s, unimportant details to Daichi’s days that make Suga’s heart clench. It’s still incessant even with Suga’s curt replies. Makes someone truly wonder what Daichi’s purpose really is, and why he still tries very hard.

 

The day they pack up camp and move indoors finally comes. Everyone is beyond relieved to sleep on actual beds, or even futons would be more than enough.

 

“It’s been a ride, Habushi Campground,” Bokuto bellows to… the campsite. He’s midway bowing until Akaashi takes a hold on his shoulders to stop him. “You’ll be missed, but we love actual beds more. Bye!”

 

Suga is already a few meters ahead to spare himself the secondhand embarrassment, with his backpack on and his rolled sleeping bag strapped. He’s had his fair share of wild friends in high school, but Bokuto sure takes the cake. If the guy is allowed to snort sunscreen, he probably would.

 

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t leave your friend behind like that!” Bokuto catches up to him, slapping his back. He has his hair down this morning, the bangs brushing his eyes. Suga raises an eyebrow at his friend, unimpressed. “Oh, come on. We all know you find me funny.”

 

It’s truly incredible how positive Bokuto’s outlook on life is. They’re just lucky to have Akaashi to deal with Bokuto’s downs.

 

“Sure, Bokuto.”

 

“Suga, I would’ve thought you’d be nicer than Akaashi,” Bokuto sighs dramatically, but there’s a hint of grin in the tilt of his mouth. Suga doesn’t get the satisfaction to shoot him an exasperated glance because Bokuto is already moving on to pester someone else. Thank god.

 

The walk to the inn is not far. They reach it within minutes and it is in the middle of the island. Everywhere is reachable but as Akaashi said, they don’t have any incredible view. There is a hot spring at the back, Suga is informed, and it makes his day instantly better.

 

Something is nagging at the back of Suga’s mind, but he can’t remember for the life of him.

 

Everything shatters—not literally, though to Suga it sure feels so—when they walk in and right up leaning against the receptionist counter is Daichi. The ground tilts under Suga when Daichi turns around their way and smiles.

 

Guilt creeps on Suga, remembering how cold he has been to Daichi in texts. It takes a bit of effort to remind himself that he’s stopped since owing Daichi anything. Seeing Daichi in person after the thunderstorm of feelings the guy left Suga in, the sensation comes back tenfold.

 

He can hear and see Kuroo coming up to Daichi and makes small talk, but it’s like he’s watching it unfold from far away.

 

There’s a tap on his shoulder that breaks him out of his reverie. Surprisingly, he’s unsurprised to see it’s Bokuto. Bokuto is standing a step behind him to his right, and he’s donning a small smile. It’s an encouraging one. Suga wonders if Bokuto knows more than he seems.

 

Suga looks ahead and slowly breathes in through his nose. The steps he takes inside are dragging, and if anyone asks, he’s just going to say he’s still tired.

 

Daichi is done talking to Kuroo when Suga nears. He pretends not to see how Daichi is standing a bit on the balls of his feet with brilliance in his eyes. It’s easier to act like Suga doesn’t notice.

 

“Hey,” Daichi says.

 

“Hey there,” Suga calls back.

 

The atmosphere isn’t as awkward as Suga initially thought. It’s still a bit weighty, but not enough to stop Daichi from talking.

 

“What have you been up to?” Daichi asks, pushing himself off the counter. “You’re not exactly the sharing type on text.”

 

“Yeah, it’s not… my favorite form of communication,” Suga lies through his teeth. It’s only Daichi he sends one word responses to.

 

Daichi frowns a little, Suga resists the urge to smooth it away. “I’ll be sure to call you next time, then,” Daichi replies, a grin already back on display. “So, what’s up?”

 

Suga finds it hard to look straight at Daichi, and settles somewhere around Daichi’s clavicle instead. The skin is partially covered by the collar of his shirt, but Suga still needs to look away and gulp audibly. How embarrassing.

 

“We’ve been to hot springs, relaxing.” Suga shrugs then picks at his cuticles. There might be some stolen glances Daichi’s way. “Nothing special.”

 

“There’s a hot spring in the back!”

 

“Yeah, I know. It’s nice.”

 

“It really is. The owner—” Daichi points to the receptionist, Suga nods at her. “—is a family friend, so since you’re my friend, I asked her for a discount.”

 

“Oh, you didn’t have to.” The guilt multiplies. “Thank you, Daichi.”

 

Daichi never leaves Suga with many options, does he? Just when Suga plans to completely cut off contacts with him, of course this has to happen. Of course he makes Suga owe him again.

 

“Anytime, really.”

 

“Oi, Suga,” someone calls. It’s Kuroo, standing in a hallway and everyone is nowhere to be seen, presumably already heading to the room. “Come on.”

 

Suga lifts a hand to have Kuroo wait for him a bit more. Turning to Daichi, it seems like he already understands. “Go on,” Daichi ushers, smiling softly. It reminds Suga of the ocean when it’s calm.

 

“I’ll text you,” Suga forces the words out, and it’s almost worth it with the blinding grin Daichi returns.

 

With one last glance at Daichi, Suga walks up to Kuroo and they make their way to the room they booked.

 

It’s spacious, and the sight of futons lined up on the floor makes Suga sigh in relief. It’s barely noon, but the pillows look really soft and he can really go for a nap.

 

“Please do not nap, Suga-san,” Akaashi says when he notices Suga walk towards one of the futon. “We’re going to the museum in a bit.”

 

Suga _is_ a nerd, sometimes worse than Akaashi, but the _museum_?

 

“This place has a museum?” Suga asks incredulously. None of his friends objects Akaashi’s plan, and just like that, he discovers what betrayal is. “You know, I really didn’t come here to be disrespected.”

 

Iwaizumi snorts and goes to unpack. “Lighten up, Suga.”

 

“You know, you can nap later after the museum,” Bokuto suggests, stretching. Suga narrows his eyes suspiciously at him. If anyone doesn’t have the attention span to be in museums, it’s Bokuto. He figures it must’ve had something to do with Akaashi, or else Bokuto would never agree to come.

 

“Fine, okay!” Suga throws his arms up in surrender. He can see Akaashi smile imperceptibly. What a rare sight.

 

Noon passes by really fast when you’re in a museum and the guides explain the history of the island you’re visiting for the summer. There’s even a traditional Niijima dance display and Suga can’t stop taking pictures on Snapchat. By the end of it, he grudgingly admits he had fun.

 

A quick lunch later, they split up. Akaashi and Suga go back to the inn, and the other three are off to the beach. Suga wonders if Daichi is already back at the shop. He’s never asked through text, and he promised Daichi he’d text. This is a good opportunity to ask without being suspicious.

 

While Akaashi is propped up against the floor table, immersed in a book, Suga lies down on one of the futons that he claimed for himself and gets his phone out. It’s half past three and he probably wouldn’t be bothering if Daichi isn’t busy.

 

 _Are you back in the shop?_ Suga asks.

 

It’s a bit relieving and alarming how fast the reply comes. _Yeah, my ribs are okay now. I’m all dandy._

 

Suga types and retypes his response, mostly to draw out the time so it doesn’t seem like he’s that enthusiastic to text. _Still no surfing. Don’t push yourself._ It’s firm and simple with no possible double meaning, although he knows Daichi isn’t someone who would jump into conclusions based on conveniently worded texts.

 

 _Understood, Doctor_.

 

The two words have no business to make Suga’s heart flutter, but it’s exactly what they’re doing. Is this flirting or just joking between friends? Why does Daichi confuse him so much? What if Daichi doesn’t even mean it that way? Is Suga overthinking this?

 

“Suga-san.”

 

Suga blinks. “Yeah?”

 

“You’re spacing out.”

 

And it’s true, Suga looks down at his chest and his phone is lying there. He didn’t even realize it fell. “Oh,” he mumbles.

 

“Yeah, oh,” Akaashi parrots. Suga watches him close his book and slide away from the table. “I can’t help but notice you’ve been slightly… unavailable.”

 

Suga cringes, caught redhanded.

 

“It’s nothing, Akaashi.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Suga considers. “Pretty sure.” Akaashi gazes back at him unbelievingly. It’s subtle and his friend probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but it’s there. “I’ll tell you if anything’s wrong,” he adds, hoping that it will appease Akaashi for a while.

 

Surprisingly, it works. He knows it’s more because Akaashi respects his privacy more than actually believing him, but it’s enough for now.

 

Contrary to what Suga believes, Akaashi doesn’t go back to his book. Crawling towards the futon, he chooses one at random and crawls in. Within minutes, as if Suga isn’t watching, Akaashi is deeply asleep with soft snores.

 

Suga stares up at the ceiling. He ponders about telling Akaashi everything. Akaashi has always been good at analyzing, and never judged Suga for anything. There’s also the thing about Bokuto… maybe Akaashi understands what he’s currently going through.

 

 _Later_ , he promises himself. Later.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

Three days in, Suga gets a surprise.

 

Suga is preparing himself for a jog when he finds Daichi sitting on the inn’s front steps. His heart nearly falls out of his chest at the sight. After days of peace and sense of security, of course Daichi decided to show up.

 

It’s tricky to get out of the inn without climbing down the steps, anything else but that will still attract attention, not only Daichi’s at that. Spending energy unnecessarily is also plain dumb.

 

With a deep breath, Suga nudges Daichi’s back with his knee. He pretends the sharp exhale he emits when Daichi’s head snaps up at him is not a gasp. Because, frankly, Daichi looks unfairly amazing right now.

 

Suga hasn’t showered for the day and his hair is pulled back with a headband to hide how greasy it actually is. Daichi looks like he just got out of gold elixir bath.

 

“What are you doing out here?” Suga wanted to ask what Daichi is doing here _at all_ , but decides to soften the blow.

 

“Came to see Tachibana-san. Decided to hang around a bit after that.”

 

Suga can see through the lie just fine, but Daichi’s smile shows how proud he is of his ‘smooth’ lying.

 

“Also, of course to see my doctor,” Daichi adds, totally not flirtatiously.

 

“Akaashi is also becoming a doctor,” Suga deflects.

 

“Yeah, but he’s not _my_ to-be-doctor.”

 

Wow, way to be possessive there, Sawamura. Totally not making Suga flustered or anything.

 

“What are you doing yourself?” Daichi asks back.

 

“I’m… about to go on a jog,” Suga draws out. Maybe if he says it slowly Daichi will get he needs to go, alone.

 

“I like jogging. Let’s go!” Daichi springs up.

 

Of course Daichi doesn’t get it.

 

Daichi isn’t even wearing running clothes, but Suga stays silent and lets him tag along.

 

There’s no surprise in Daichi being a fast runner, especially on the sand, but Suga can’t help but be competitive and takes Daichi’s bait to race. It helps soothe his nerves from before, shedding energy like this.

 

Suga holds up a hand and it says something about how often Daichi checks up on him that he can see Suga wanting a break when he’s already ahead.

 

“I need a breather,” Suga wheezes.

 

When Daichi backtracks to get closer to his side, Suga runs with a headstart. Daichi is yelling, faintly—did he get that far already?—and Suga allows himself a grin. He even plays with the water a bit, splashing around as he waits for Daichi who’s still a good few meters behind him.

 

He doesn’t let Daichi close in much, always sprinting ahead when Daichi gets too close. It’s fun, he thinks to himself, he’s having fun. And judging Daichi’s failing attempt to pretend to be mad, he must be having fun, too.

 

His stamina is ebbing away, he can sense, but he’s not about to let Daichi know. He paces himself a bit and before he can adjust, _thump thump thump_ on the sand sounds and something heavy collides with Suga’s back.

 

They tumble together in a mess of limbs, more of Suga flailing and busy making all variation of _oof_ sounds. The sand is good enough cushion, as coarse as it is, but it’s still damp enough not to scratch Suga’s skin too badly.

 

Suga opens his eyes—must’ve closed them on reflex—and gather awareness of his surrounding. The body behind his is very warm, as are his cheeks when he realizes it’s Daichi.

 

Daichi has an arm around Suga’s neck and it doesn’t budge when Suga tries to wriggle away. “You have me in a headlock,” Suga says in what he hopes is the most intimidating voice he’s ever had. “Let me go and I’ll spare you.”

 

“Nope,” Daichi sings. Not intimidated, then. “I have no respect for cheaters.”

 

Suga knows which definition of cheater that Daichi means exactly, but he still tenses and the lump in his throat won’t go away no matter how much he’s trying to gulp it away.

 

Either Daichi takes note of how tense Suga is, or just tired himself, but the arm loosens and the warmth withdraws. Suga has to physically restrain himself from following the warmth. It’s already summer, what does he need extra heat for?

 

Suga sits up and slide up a bit to get farther from the tiny waves. He sees Daichi sprawled on his back next to him, all his limbs are splayed out. It’s a weirdly childish image.

 

It’s gone and shattered when Daichi also sits up to peel away his shirt. Suga prays to all the gods that Daichi can’t hear his sharp intake of breath at the sight of skin and more skin.

 

“What?” Daichi asks defensively, thankfully taking Suga’s bewilderment as judgement. “It’s hot!”

 

 _It is_ , Suga thinks, eyeing Daichi’s bare shoulders and toned abdomen. Suga wants to personally give himself a huge slap, rendering him unconscious.

 

Suga flips Daichi off instead, conveniently looking away at the horizon rather than Daichi’s very nice biceps. He wonders if Daichi lifts weights, and thinks about what kind of regimen he needs to get arms like Daichi before his thoughts can stray anywhere else.

 

“Oh, hey,” Daichi says, whipping out his phone out of nowhere—probably his pocket, but Suga does have a flair for dramatics. “Do you have Instagram? I followed Kuroo but couldn’t find your account.”

 

Great, another tie to Daichi. Suga specifically removed his tag from Kuroo’s photos for this particular worry. He considers telling Daichi that he doesn’t have one, but what if one day Daichi decides he’s still curious and scrolls down Kuroo’s following list?

 

For whatever reason against his own logic, Suga asks for Daichi’s phone and follows himself from Daichi’s Instagram account. He cringes a bit at the sight of a selfie on his feed and gives Daichi back his phone.

 

“Hm, _sugarkoushi_?” Daichi asks. Suga considers dumping a handful of sand down Daichi’s pants.

 

Suga groans and lies down on the sand. His legs were numb a minute ago, but now they’re starting to ache from the jogging turned into impromptu racing.

 

“That tired you out?” Daichi challenges. Suga doesn’t rise to it because he _is_ exhausted. It’s a great way to burn off excess jittery energy he gets from being around Daichi, but his tiredness now just leads to him being sleepy and Daichi’s chest seems like it would make a really great pillow.

 

Snap the fuck out of it, Sugawara.

 

“I haven’t been running that rigorously these days,” Suga admits in lieu of actually trying to snuggle Daichi on the fucking sand.

 

“Yeah? You used to?”

 

“In high school, yeah. We used to get penalties during summer camps.”

 

“We?”

 

Suga chuckles. “My volleyball team. We were great.”

 

This clearly piques Daichi’s interest. “You played volleyball?”

 

“I still do. Kinda.”

 

Maybe it’s the way Suga’s expression drops, because Daichi’s tone turns careful. “Kinda?”

 

Going on and telling people of his insecurities isn’t something Suga does easily, but the open, inviting expression on Daichi’s face cracks him open. It’s like a dam breaking.

 

“My friends—you’ve met them—and I, we’ve known each other since high school,” Suga starts hesitantly, stammering a bit. Daichi urges him to go on but not rushing. “We didn’t go to the same schools, though. Only Akaashi and Bokuto do. But you get it, I guess.” Daichi nods. “They got into college through volleyball scholarship and I didn’t. I… know since then I am not of exceptional talent in volleyball, or in anything, really. I got replaced as the regular setter in my third year. Now I’m in my university’s volleyball club, but you guessed it—I’m not even a benchwarmer. There are so many talented players, but when I get the chance I practice so I don’t get out of shape.”

 

There’s a stretch of silence where only distant conversations and waves rolling are heard. “Suga, I—”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Suga cuts him off. “I’ve accepted it.” But even he can taste the lie so pungent on his tongue, he doesn’t want to look at Daichi’s face in fear of what he’ll see. Shame is rooting deep in his core and his stomach feels heavy.

 

It’s easier to pretend he’s alone right now, only him, the sunset and the strangers who don’t know his life. Not with a boy who makes him feel things he thought he’d never feel ever again, a boy who he just poured all his conflictions to, a boy who knows him and wants to know more, a boy who smiles at him like he built the world from scratch, a boy who taught him how to befriend the water, a boy who did surrender to the water from worrying about him—a boy.

 

Why does it have to be a boy?

 

Suga goes out like a light once he hits the pillow that night. He dreams of strong hands holding him, warmth in the stifling heat of summer, lopsided grin rivaling the sun. Once he wakes up, he forgets his dream, but the tears running down his face are enough hint.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

The next day, Iwaizumi already planned ahead what they’re doing for the day.

 

“Hiking,” Suga says flatly.

 

“That, is right, Sugawara.” Iwaizumi winks his way. Suga gags. “We’re hiking to get to Fujimitoge Observatory. It’s only one of the viewing platforms here, but apparently it has the widest landscape.” He peeks at his phone. “It takes two hours on foot, no biggie.”

 

“No biggie,” Akaashi parrots, his expression pinched. Though he doesn’t say anything else, probably because Iwaizumi humored his museum the other day. Makes sense if he returns the favor.

 

Suga watches his friends nodding in agreement and hopes he stumbles and die while they hike. Hiking is an entirely different thing than going on a jog.

 

They’re all set to go within minutes, even Kuroo who usually takes the longest to get ready is amongst the firsts to finish. Bokuto seems lax today, absentmindedly playing with the drawstrings of Akaashi’s hoodie. Iwaizumi is vibrating with excitement. Suga wants to go back to sleep.

 

Weighing his options, Suga finds hiking might actually be slightly better than being alone in the inn with his thoughts. He’s not ready to revisit the area of his mind that he named The Daichi Corner. He chooses to bury the abundance of emotion by exhausting himself.

 

The hike up is a blur, mostly of Suga panting and trying to keep up with his friends that he can’t think much of anything else. Iwaizumi looks the most satisfied. The view, as Iwaizumi—the internet—says, is incredible from up here.

 

The sun is shining and clouds are nowhere to be seen, the ocean is blue, meeting the sky at the horizon. Suga’s knees almost buckle in relief once they reach the top, but the view stops him. It’s almost a reflex by now for him to quickly snaps pictures with his phone.

 

Pictures don’t do it justice won’t cut it. Suga honestly wouldn’t mind hiking again if this is the view that awaits him. His mood dampens a bit when a stray thought rings in his head. _How would Daichi like it up here?_

 

“Gee, how in the hell would I know,” Suga snaps out loud, resulting him getting weird looks from his friends. He mutters a halfhearted apology.

 

He really needs to not ruin this for his friend, he can’t be that asshole. The main reason he even agreed to come was to distract himself from anything Daichi-related. If those thoughts can still infiltrate his general state of mind, then he should really do something about it.

 

“Suga, we’re taking a picture!” Bokuto exclaims. There’s a stranger holding Bokuto’s phone, ready to take photos of the.

 

Suga shakes off the things bothering him and tries

to act as peppy as he can, bounding up to his friends. They make a line and smile at the camera, and maybe, Suga thinks, with Kuroo’s arm around his shoulders, as long as he has his friends, everything will be alright.

 

Suga gets one of his wishes granted on the way down.

 

Suga’s foot catches on a jutting out root and he falls down. Luckily, he holds himself with his hands before he can roll down the slope of the ground. Not very luckily, his left wrist is sprained and he acquired scrapes from the ordeal. They’re not as much of a big deal as the intrusive thought he gets of _how will Daichi react to this?_

 

Sometimes, Suga wants to own the ability to rewind time just to get his second wish and die.

 

Akaashi checks it out and declares it as a Grade I sprain. They stop by a convenience store to buy some stuff, Bokuto finds a tube of painkillers in his pack, Kuroo provides the water bottle and Iwaizumi is busy frowning at Suga.

 

“Yes, Iwa, I get it. Save the lecture,” Suga says. He gets a flick to the back of his head for that, but worth it.

 

Unexpectedly, Iwaizumi apologizes. “I’m sorry that I forced you to go on the hike.”

 

At that, Suga softens. “I wanted to go. It’s not your fault.”

 

“Suga-san, I know you already know how to treat sprained wrists,” Akaashi says. “But it’s not a bad thing to remind you to rest your wrist for at least forty-eight hours. Don’t go do anything weird that puts pressure on your wrist.”

 

Suga salutes with his good hand. It will be inconvenient, but he’s had his fair share of minor injuries. He just wishes his conscience would stop thirsting after Daichi’s attention. His sole impulse control is his brain right now, telling him not to text Daichi and overshare, but his resolve is crumbling.

 

Once his friends move on and attention is driven elsewhere, Suga feels for his phone. He put it on silence the whole morning, but it’s now afternoon and his screen is filled with notifications from top to bottom. Most of them is people liking and commenting his new Instagram picture of the hike, though in between those are also texts. None from Daichi.

 

Suga’s heart falls and he wishes he could do the same with his phone if he didn’t value it as much as he does. Should he take the chance and text first? Should he be worried? No matter how dry Suga gets, Daichi always finds something to text Suga about. Like how the neighborhood’s cat just had kittens, how the branch of a tree in his yard just fell off, how his favorite pair of socks has holes. The silence makes Suga yearns for these mindless texts. Now he feels hollow and cold in the middle of summer.

 

Fuck it, he thinks, and sends a hi to Daichi.

 

For someone who certainly didn’t text Suga all morning, Daichi replies fast. If Suga’s heart fell to his feet before, now it falls into the earth’s core.

 

 _Hey_. No excited exclamation marks, no mention of Suga’s name.

 

Suga slowly draws breath and lets air fill his lungs steadily. It’s the best way for him to prevent his breathing from getting erratic and for panic to not get the best of him.

 

 _This is unimportant but I’d still like you to know, I sprained my wrist earlier._ Suga rereads the text and adds, _Guess now we both have injuries_.

 

It takes two and a half minute for Daichi to respond—Suga counted, yeah, what’s your problem—and it’s with a call.

 

Suga thinks he’s never picked up a phone call so fast in his life, he can’t even be bothered to be ashamed.

 

“How the fuck did you injure yourself?” Daichi demands, voice tight. This is the first time Suga has ever heard Daichi curse, and he immediately wishes he got his neck broken during the hike when he can feel his cheeks and the back of his neck getting warm from hearing Daichi’s low voice curse. Right into his ear.

 

“Daichi, it’s not a big deal—”

 

“Fuck yeah, it is, Suga,” Daichi snaps. Suga is very thankful for the fact he’s sitting down because his knees are feeling peculiarly weak. “Is it from surfing? You didn’t even rent a surfboard today, at least not from here, what—”

 

Suga cuts him off with a snort, but quickly appeases Daichi. “It’s a minor injury, okay? Akaashi saw it over and it’s fine. I just fell, caught myself with my hands, that’s all.”

 

There is a beat or two before Daichi speaks again. “I don’t know for sure until I see you.”

 

Suga hates all the gods in the world for making his voice shake, mirroring his hammering heart. “You know where to find me. What’s stopping you?”

 

Daichi hums. “To be honest, sometimes I don’t know if you actually like hanging out with me.”

 

“Of course I do!”

 

“You always get this far away look in your eyes. Sometimes you do look happy and that makes me happy, too, but… don’t force yourself.”

 

Suga needs mental support right now, but all his friends are busy among themselves. Never in his life has he ever felt this conflicted. He prays to whoever is listening that he’s not saying the wrong thing. “I swear I’m not forcing myself to do anything when it comes to you. After the first time you taught me surfing, never. I’m just really confused about things and I… I’m just really sorry if it makes you think I dislike you.”

 

Of all the things Daichi can question, of course it’s got to be the one about Suga’s confusion.

 

“It’s hard to explain and, uh, I’m not ready to talk about it,” Suga hastily answers. “Though, yeah, I do love hanging out with you.” _Especially how you make me feel when we do_.

 

“Alright, take your time,” Daichi sighs. Suga deliberately fails to mention that they don’t really have much time, since it’s his last week in Niijima. After they get back to Tokyo, the hecticness of things are going to get in the way of their… friendship. They will most likely lose contact. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. Just in case, bring some thin outer because it’s going to get a bit chilly.”

 

“Night? What time?” Suga tilts his head, though Daichi can’t even see him.

 

“I’ll text you tomorrow.” Suga can’t honestly recall Daichi sounding so secretive before, and if anything, it gets him excited.

 

Confusion gets the best of him not long after that, when he’s sitting and eating dinner with his friends. _What does Daichi want?_

 

It’s a question that’s not rare to cross his mind the past week, but it only renders him miserable. How is he supposed to know that? Is he allowed to assume things? Will bad things happen if he seriously considers Daichi romantically?

 

Growing up in Miyagi, Suga’s never been exposed to things like this. He’s always consumed what he sees and automatically assumed it was the norm, but Tokyo changed him and his view. There are new things that he learned, that he’s not sure he’s proud of. He’s thrown into the lifestyle his mother told him to avoid. The lifestyle of people expressing themselves.

 

His thoughts are broken by someone calling his name.

 

“Suga, you’re not gonna eat that?” Iwaizumi asks, pointing at Suga’s food with a chopstick.

 

Suga blinks as it sinks in. “I am! Don’t take my food.”

 

It distracts him from the conflict brewing inside him, but not completely.

 

His friends minus Akaashi go to the inn’s lobby to smoke, and Suga braces himself, because he knows there are questions coming.

 

“Suga-san.”

 

There it is.

 

“Yup?”

 

“Are you really okay?” How peculiar for Akaashi to sound genuinely concerned.

 

“I…” Suga starts. “I’m not sure.”

 

“I apologize beforehand if I’m wrong, but is it Sawamura-san?”

 

Suga’s eyes snap up to Akaashi’s face. The expression is impassive, contradicting his previously worried voice.

 

At least now Suga doesn’t have to bring it up first.

 

“I guess. How did you come to that conclusion?”

 

“I figured you guys have been pretty chummy these days. What’s wrong?”

 

The question is rhetorical, Suga knows, because Akaashi is too good at deducting facts of whatever is happening based on his observation to be asking that. He’s now asking for confirmation, and Suga is willing to comply.

 

“I, uh, I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but… I think I might like Daichi. I don’t know why—like, I wish I don’t feel this way but I do. It—” His voice cracks and he draws in a deep breath. “It’s fucking with me. Because I don’t want to have feelings for someone who might be disgusted with me if he finds out.”

 

Akaashi seems to ponder this. “Sawamura-san doesn’t look like that kind of person.”

 

“No, he doesn’t,” Suga sighs. “But who knows, right? Who knows.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“I’ve actually wanted to talk about this to you for quite some time, I just never got to work up the guts.” Suga pats Akaashi’s arm. “Thanks for opening up the conversation first.”

 

“Just making sure you’re doing fine.”

 

“Yeah, I’d known that you would be the perfect person to talk about this. Especially considering you and Bokuto, and stuff.”

 

Akaashi looks away. “What about me and Bokuto-san.”

 

Suga inwardly curses himself out. Right. Touchy subject.

 

“Just… you seem to have your life under control, Akaashi. You’re on your way to graduate early. In medicine! You always have a cool head in, like, any situation. I can’t do that—everything is just spiraling out of control. On top of that, you’ve lived in Tokyo your whole life, where people are way open minded. Miyagi is different. I was raised in a different environment. Certain things are badly frowned upon and, I.” Suga’s breath hitches. “I can’t bear to fail again.”

 

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “Again? Do you want to talk about it?”

 

It’s Suga’s least favorite subject. The topic that brings the most misery to him. But this time, looking straight at Akaashi’s questioning face, everything comes spilling out.

 

“My parents never approved of my volleyball.” Suga looks down, drawing invisible patterns on the floor. “They became even more disappointed when I continued to play even during my third year. I wasn’t even the regular setter anymore—you remember that, of course. Even more after I lost. I was supposed to focus on school, get into a good college, not waste time on some flimsy sport that won’t give me lifetime stability.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “They never… outright told me that I was a failure, but they always let me know that I wasted time, wasted space, if my studies became affected by volleyball.” He takes a shuddering breath, and shoots Akaashi a grateful look for not rushing him. “It was… something. Everything and everyone was tense in my house during that time. But in the end, I got into Tokai and even took medicine, and it made them happier. I just—I can’t stand thinking about how they’d react if they find out, somehow, that I’m…”

 

“Into dudes?” Akaashi supplies.

 

“Yeah. It makes me feel horrible.” Suga messes up his slicked back hair in frustration. “This is why I never fully explored my feelings for guys. Just because I made out with some at parties, doesn’t mean I ever decided what I feel. Never dwelled on it. But Daichi happens and everything just, snaps back at my face.”

 

The thing about Akaashi that Suga extremely appreciates, is that the guy never makes unnecessary comments about being sorry. It sucks and that’s all there is, so no empty words of sympathy is said.

 

“It will work out somehow, Suga-san,” is what Akaashi settles on. It’s not something incredibly hopeful, Suga knows by that Akaashi means this could work out in the ways Suga doesn’t want, but he will get by anyway.

 

His thoughts drained him, leaving him miserable, and when the rest of his friends comes back to tell them that they’re heading out somewhere, he decides to hang back. The inn is a safer place with no Daichi to induce more confusion within himself.

 

It proves to be working, with the exhaustion of traipsing around the island finally catching up to him. Dozing off is easy and Suga slides out and back into sleep—time is a hazy concept.

 

He barely notices his friends coming back in and falling asleep themselves, with the last of his dreams is still dragging him down. He can faintly remember of warm hands and wide smile, glittering eyes mirroring the sun, a silhouette of a broad-shouldered figure with sea breeze tousled hair.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

The next day comes too fast for Suga’s taste. Daichi is picking him up later this evening, yes, but it makes him even more anxious. He has a lot of time to think about what they’re going to do, what he’s going to wear he didn’t pack that many good clothes ohmygod—

 

A slap to his back makes him jump. “What the hell was that for?” he demands, looking up at the perpetrator. It’s Bokuto.

 

“You were doing your spacing out thing again.”

 

“What spacing out thing?”

 

“Your eyes get empty, like you’re looking at something reaaaaally far away, but your whole body is tense. Akaashi told me I should break you out of it when it happens.”

 

Suga doesn’t know what to respond to that. He settles on a, “Thanks, I guess.”

 

It’s that easy to bring back Bokuto’s mood. With that simple show of gratitude, a blinding smile is back on display. “Wonder what you’d do without me, huh, Sugawara?” Bokuto boasts, thumping Suga on the back multiple times. It kind of hurts—Bokuto sometimes forgets how strong he is—but Suga just rolls his eyes.

 

Bokuto becomes distracted again and leaves Suga alone, not without the warning of, “ _Stay inside your body, you!_ ” Appeasing him is effortless, and once again, without Bokuto’s loudness, Suga’s own thoughts drown him.

 

Some things that Suga would prefer not to write down course through his mind, both terrible and absurd but his gut always feels like it’s caught in mid-panic. Logic is useless that he can’t help but be angry at himself. With exactly zero person’s eyes on him, he kicks an innocuous vase. Thankfully, it’s made of plastic, invulnerable to Suga’s frustration.

 

Does Daichi see him that way? Is he worthy of _being_ seen that way? Is Daichi even into guys?

 

The questions repeat themselves, presenting themselves at the most horrible timing.

 

“Suga,” someone calls out from behind him. Iwaizumi greets him. There’s a familiar-looking book held in his hand—rare occasion outside of school—not quite thick but not thin enough to seem like it’s a short novel. “I think I might’ve packed your book in my backpack.”

 

Suga tilts his head to see the cover. It is one of his novels that he packed as some light reading material, he did wonder if he’d forgotten to pack it in the first place. At least, now he has a distraction, something to do.

 

“Reading at the beach sounds good to you?” Iwaizumi asks. Jumping on Iwaizumi to kiss him sounds like a mightily dumb idea, no matter how happy Suga is, so he doesn’t do that.

 

“Sounds incredible.” Suga feels a genuine smile stretch his face. “Thanks for the suggestion, Iwa.”

 

Suga is answered with a two-finger salute, then bombarded with yapping orders to pack up stuff for the beach.

 

The sun is high up in the sky already, hot but not blistering. Suga is fussed over again with sunscreen, because freckles. It’s overwhelmingly wonderful, his friends subtly showing support like this. They might not know what’s up with him, but they try to make him feel better in their own ways.

 

Kuroo lays down some thin blankets for them to sit on. Everyone—including Akaashi—goes for a swim, but Suga opts to read and guard their stuff.

 

Words swallow him and he jumps into another universe as someone else, a stranger but not. Plot flows in his mind and he can feel himself reacting the same way as the main character, though certainly less dramatic, since he’s in public.

 

His eyes get tired after a while, so he decides to rest his eyes by leisurely looking at the coastline, half lying down with his head propped by an arm.

 

Kuroo and Bokuto are still within Suga’s field of vision, Iwaizumi and Akaashi presumably having fun somewhere else farther away. He closes his eyes and lets the white noise of waves crashing and distant people chatter wash over him.

 

There’s a moment where he might have dozed off, but he doesn’t remember nor bother to check the time once he regains consciousness. It doesn’t take long for him to painfully remember about his thing with Daichi. Time feels like it was just stretching in the most relaxed way, and now it’s snapping back, rushing him.

 

When his head’s stopped being riddled with panicked thoughts of _Daichi tonight Daichi to fucking night_ , his eyes refocus. From afar, he can see Bokuto bounding up to where he’s sitting. One second, Bokuto is a hundred meters away, next second, he’s already standing in front of Suga. “I’m tired! Let’s make sand castles!”

 

Suga groans. “Ugh, let me reorient myself first. Also you’re gonna get sand all over you.”

 

“I already got sand all over myself.”

 

“Fine, _I’ll_ get sand all over _me_.”

 

Bokuto rolls his eyes and stomps one foot. “Don’t be a party pooper, Suga!”

 

“Go pester Akaashi into making sand castles with you instead.”

 

That gets a reaction Suga didn’t expect, but not entirely surprising. Bokuto looks away, pouting. “Akaashi is off with Iwaizumi.” There’s an undercurrent of jealousy that Suga catches, but decides not to point out. Rather than agitating Bokuto further, Suga humors him.

 

They build castles out of sand until Kuroo walks up to them, trailed by Akaashi and Iwaizumi. Out of the corner of his eye, Suga watches Bokuto who still seems a bit huffy seeing Akaashi and Iwaizumi. It quickly dissipates when Akaashi produces a popsicle and shoves it in Bokuto’s face. Suga tries to sigh as discreetly as he can instead of outright collapsing in relief.

 

“Let’s get some early dinner,” Kuroo suggests. It’s immediately seconded by everyone, and they move as a boisterous heap through the streets.

 

They find another izakaya, hidden in a corner, with stellar food and affordable price. By the end of their little feast, Suga’s stomach feels like it’s burning from all the hot pepper and chili he consumed. Worth it, he thinks to himself.

 

Roughly half an hour before sunset, when Suga’s already back at the inn with his friends, his phone dings with an incoming text.

 

 _Pick you up in 5_ , the text says. From Daichi.

 

Panic grips him like a vise. He hasn’t even decided what he would wear, there’s probably still sand behind his ears, under his fingernails—he looks nasty and he is _not_ prepared.

 

He rummages through his pack, as gingerly as he can with his left wrist, and tries to smooth the wrinkles in his clothes. It doesn’t work as well as he hoped, but he’s in a rush and he aims for looking presentable at most.

 

In the end, he’s clad in gray jogger pants and some maroon hoodie that’s fairly new and not ratty. Fortunately, it doesn’t take five minutes. Unfortunately, he can only clean visible dirt but can’t clean up thoroughly. He doesn’t smell, though spraying a layer thin of perfume won’t be too bad.

 

When his friends ask him where he’s going on his way to the door, he only responds with, “Out. Be back later.”

 

Suga pads ahead to the entrance, and finds Daichi already waiting. Daichi is leaning on an open-roofed car—a Jeep, Suga is sure—with a shy smile plastered on.

 

Is it possible to sue someone for causing Suga weak knees?

 

Dumbly, Suga says, “You brought a car.”

 

Daichi pushes himself off the side of the car, standing up straight. “I did. Hop in and let’s hope we don’t miss the sunset.”

 

Considering Suga’s luck, it truly is a miracle that they still got to see the sunset. They’re watching from on top of an observatory, which is a ten minutes drive from the base of the hill. People are still milling around, but the crowd is dispersing steadily, little by little.

 

Suga dares himself a sideway glance at Daichi, and he doesn’t know if what he sees makes him feel better or way worse than before.

 

The sun renders Daichi red and ethereal. The orange glow of it matches the tan of Daichi’s skin, and watching the way Daichi is so enthralled by the view, Suga bites his bottom lip. It’s frustrating to see how lovely Daichi is, to want to kiss him, but also feeling conflicted about what he feels. Is this alright? Is it okay to think this way?

 

When orange and yellow fade into pink then purple, Daichi tells Suga to wait while he goes back to the car. Suga doesn’t even get to be bewildered. It’s a quick trip and Daichi comes back with a folded blanket and a cooler.

 

This time, Suga does get to be bewildered.

 

“What’s that…?”

 

“We’re stargazing tonight,” Daichi answers.

 

Oh. Stargazing. Though Suga was actually referring to the cooler. It’s answered when Daichi opens the lid and bottles of champagne are inside, hugged by chunks of ice.

 

“Daichi, what—?”

 

“I just wanted to make you feel nice!” Daichi cuts off, producing glasses from inside the blanket. “You told me on text you’re going home in a few days, and in case we won’t be able to see each other again while you’re here… I needed to do something. I just wanted to do something nice.”

 

It’s not only nice, Suga thinks, it’s _romantic_. Cheesily so.

 

Stargazing on a hill while drinking champagne, seriously?

 

Suga stays silent and plays along. Daichi’s actions seem innocuous enough, seemingly without motive, but even then, do friends casually do this? Daichi could’ve also invited Suga’s friends, but no, he had to mysteriously plan something for Suga, pick Suga up in a gorgeous Jeep, and choose the most romantic environment to execute said plan. Suga’s chest aches from thinking about it alone.

 

Suga plops down on the outstretched blanket and lies down. Twinkling stars blink back at him without the pollution of artificial light. Next to him, Daichi is pouring champagne and trying to balance the glasses on the uneven surface.

 

“Toast?” Daichi extends a hand holding one glass, the other is in his other hand. Suga sits up and precariously accept the drink, knowing, after eyeing both the glass and the drink, that these stuff are expensive.

 

“Toast.” He gently knocks the tip of his glass with Daichi’s.

 

Suga has never tried champagne before, but gulping it down under the stars, with the salty aroma of the ocean, and looking straight at Daichi, it tastes noxiously sweet on his tongue, slightly burning his throat.

 

A few drinks in, Suga finds that Daichi can hold his liquor. He feels giddy and weirdly giggly already, so he lies back down and calls for a break.

 

Not half a minute later, Daichi joins him and lies down. “Do you know any constellations?”

 

“Yup!” Suga hiccups. He starts pointing at random stars and names them anything that sounds even the faintest Greek-ish. “That is uh… Kronos.”

 

“Oh, okay, you’re proper drunk.”

 

“So, what if I am?” Suga growls. “Doesn’t mean my knowledge is less credible because of it.”

 

The only response Daichi gives him is an unimpressed stare, and Suga kind of hates his tipsy self for breaking into a smile too soon. He lets out a silly giggle. “Okay, I was just making shit up.”

 

Comfortable, companionable silence stretches between them. The air is breezy enough for Suga to pull his hood over his head and tuck his hands under his armpits. Considering how fairly intoxicated he is, he doesn’t want to try and fail to inch closer to Daichi. Stealth is not his friend right now.

 

“Are you cold?” Daichi asks, so suddenly. Suga almost bites his tongue from the surprise—he didn’t expect Daichi to pay attention to him. To Suga’s utmost satisfaction and astonishment, Daichi extend an arm and beckons him closer. “Come here. It’s fine.”

 

There’s a scream building in Suga’s chest, and he sincerely doesn’t know if it’s okay to jump off this hill right now. It sounds completely reasonable and weak compared to the rush of Daichi’s offer. To cuddle. Under the stars and moonlight. On the top of a hill on a beautiful island with the most exclusive view of everything.

 

Outwardly, Suga plays into his drunkenness and lazily scoots over. Totally contradicting how amped up he feels. Warmth immediately engulfs him, and even though it wasn’t that cold in the first place, he still can’t resist the sigh of relief. His relief is almost immediately wiped away when he can feel Daichi’s arm loosely curled around him. It takes a huge amount of resistance on Suga’s part to not gulp too loudly. He can’t even pinch himself to determine if this is not a dream.

 

“Okay, be legit, now,” Daichi says, weirdly hushed. He points at the sky and Suga’s gaze follows. “What’s that one?”

 

Suga squints up, making patterns in his slowed down brain. “Hercules… maybe? I haven’t read about constellations for a long time, but I think it’s Hercules.”

 

“Damn, the dude really got a constellation named after him.”

 

Suga snorts. “I mean, he _was_ a Greek hero, you know.”

 

“Well, I think I also deserve a constellation after me. What should my constellation be?”

 

“Maybe a surfer dude, complete with the surfboard and stuff. I’ve never heard of a surfer constellation.”

 

Daichi hums, and the vibration of it travels through his chest to Suga, who’s partially lying on it. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to burrow further into Daichi’s arms, or something even dumber, like kissing him. There is one reason Suga could think of that might explain why Daichi is doing this, but it’s way too implausible that he settles on believing Daichi is being nice. Again. It’s part of his plan. No need to be overly hopeful. Suga will just have to wait and see what will happen next.

 

The way Daichi’s eyes sparkle when they look at each other makes it troublesome. At least now Suga knows that Daichi might as well just be god. It’s not possible for someone to always look so flattering in every lighting. The angular shape of his jaw is pronounced by the shadows, the straight line of his nose, the bump of his pouty lips, his sharp eyes with the brown filled with warmth—Suga doesn’t honestly mind if all he can see for the rest of his life is Daichi’s face. He might have spent majority of their time stargazing solely Daichi-gazing.

 

“One more sip, and we’re off. Is that okay?” Daichi speaks up, his tone still hushed and even a bit raspy. Suga’s heart throbs with want, but he manages a nod. They slowly rise from their cozy cuddle spot and pour the last glass of champagne.

 

“Did you buy this?” Suga asks. He finds his head clearer after the drink break, and now he can savor the taste of the beverage on his tongue. “It’s good.”

 

Daichi sheepishly looks down at the opened bottle. “Found it in my dad’s stash. I don’t really know my fancy drinks.”

 

It’s beyond endearing to see Daichi so honest and shy. Suga wonders if he should start getting worried about contracting some kind of cardiac disease, considering the abnormalities his heart is going through.

 

Suga finishes the last of his drink and gives the glass back to Daichi. They make the walk back to the car with minimal stumbling—Suga’s tipsiness has decreased to a point where only the buzz is left.

 

“Where are we going now?” Suga implores.

 

“Do you mind going on a walk?” Daichi asks back, looking genuinely nervous. Suga nods. “Okay, cool. I’ll need to drop the car off first, though.”

 

It takes another ten minutes to drive down the hill, more or less. Daichi puts on some music, making it just loud enough to be heard but not to drown their voices.

 

“Why do you need to drop off the car?” Suga casually asks. “Where are we going?”

 

“The beach!” Daichi kind of hollers back.

 

“Wow, very descriptive of you. All my questions are answered!”

 

“Thank you.”

 

The rest of the ride is filled with similar exchange, them bantering back and forth, sometimes laughter make it into their conversation. Laughter that leaves Suga reeling and clutching at his stomach, although they both know their jokes are not even that funny.

 

They make it to Daichi’s house, the sight of it quickens Suga’s pulse. It gives off such private vibes, that Daichi’s invited him over for the second time. Technically this one time doesn’t count, since they don’t actually go into the house and take to the road instead, but Suga can think whatever he wants for himself.

 

Since Daichi’s house isn’t that far from the beach, they take off in that direction. Their steps are slow, synchronized with each other’s, and at some point they just stand so close to each other that their shoulders brush. Suga gets a vivid flashback of his highschool days where things like this belonged. Being all flustered and red by the barest touch from Daichi sounds extremely juvenile. He’s twenty, for god’s sake.

 

Suga didn’t pay attention to where they’re going since he was too busy trying to make sure his thumping heart isn’t audible to Daichi, but when they stop walking, he focuses and he lets out a small gasp.

 

It’s the beach where he first surfed—actually surfed, not those first lessons he had with Daichi riding prone. The windy but calmer one. It brings back nostalgia, which is really silly since it’s only a little more than a week ago, but Suga’s whole body is filled with warmth from the sight.

 

“Oh…” Suga mumbles.

 

There are lights illuminating the beach, at least good enough to give them some dim lighting. Suga bites his lips and pretends to not notice how deserted their surroundings are. _Don’t get your hopes up yet_ , he inwardly reprimands himself.

 

“For old time’s sake?”

 

Suga turns to look at Daichi. Standing right there, straight-backed and radiating conviviality with his self-conscious grin, Suga almost loses it. It’s even harder to stop himself from tackling Daichi for a kiss, but he somehow finds the willpower to stop himself.

 

“Is this some kind of goodbye?” Suga finally voices out what has resided in his thoughts.

 

Daichi can’t lie for shit, Suga thinks, seeing how he blisters and blunders. “I sure hope it’s not! I—I just wanted you to have the best impression of this island. I mean, you know, it’s my hometown and stuff.” He scratches his head. “Just. I wanted it to be meaningful. Memorable. I really enjoyed the time I spent with you.”

 

The whole thing leaves Suga speechless. He was never the most eloquent person to begin with, and faced with such a sincere person, he intelligently answers with an, “Uh…”

 

Daichi’s face falls, and though the guy recovers fast, Suga still has the urge to drown himself in the ocean. He quickly flails his arms around. “I did, too! I don’t know how to say it, but I really loved hanging out with you. I love wasting time with you, I—” Suga cuts himself off before he can say _I love you_. “You get the gist. I feel the same way, is what I’m saying.”

 

“You do?” The look of genuine surprise catches Suga off guard. Has Daichi been feeling like Suga is merely tolerating him?

 

“Of course I do. What are you on?” Suga rolls his eyes and starts a path down the shoreline. Daichi quickly catches up with him, and Suga is fairly certain that Daichi’s breathlessness isn’t caused by the running. It gets harder by the minute for Suga to tamp down hope fluttering in his stomach. The glittery glances Daichi keeps sending his way also aren’t helping, _at all_.

 

With a deep breath, Suga finds the courage to end this once and for all. He needs closure. He’s going home in less than three days and he can’t spend the rest of his life thinking about this summer and Daichi and Niijima and what could’ve happened.

 

“You didn’t have to voluntarily hang out with me, you know that, right?” Suga asks. It’s not the best starter, but he doesn’t know what else to say. He just hopes this suffices.

 

“I know, Suga,” Daichi confirms, shooting him a smile. “I just like to make sure I get to know my student.”

 

Something heavy involuntarily falls to his stomach. Probably his heart. Who cares about that, though, right?

 

“But,” Daichi adds, making Suga’s stomach lurch unpleasantly. “I also found that you… bring me a lot of joy.” Suga’s breath hitches. “I admire you a lot. You went from half-heartedly doing something to finding your way to master it. I respect that. And every time we talk, I just.” Daichi kicks a coral. “I always feel _heard_. That’s honestly the best feeling. You understand me. Do you feel that way about me?”

 

There’s a hint of challenge in Daichi’s tone. Subtle enough that maybe Daichi himself doesn’t realize it seeped through. Suga still feels dizzy from the barrage of—maybe—confession to process an adequate response. He stops in his tracks instead, which makes Daichi follow suit.

 

“I’m…” Suga starts. His breath is getting heavy, and for the first time in a long time, it’s the good kind of heavy breathing. His heart is hammering inside his chest, skipping around. “You bring me a lot of joy, too, Daichi.” Even he can tell how embarrassing he must look right now, all wide-eyed and hopeful and vulnerable.

 

If anyone asks when he started moving, he can’t give an answer, because the next second, he’s already standing in front of Daichi. Close, too close. Daichi appears to be as surprised as he feels, but doesn’t lean away. When Suga wets his lips, Daichi’s eyes flick down and also licks his lips and flick up again into Suga’s eyes. There’s an emotion there that Suga can relate to. Desire.

 

Impulse takes over and Suga cradles Daichi’s face and plants his lips on Daichi’s. The first thing he can think of: warm. Warm, just like everything Daichi is. He can faintly taste the champagne they were drinking and he almost bursts into tears. It takes him a second to realize that: 1. Daichi isn’t kissing him back; 2. Daichi is tensing up under his fingers.

 

Slowly, Suga withdraws, with a steady crack resonating in his chest. Most likely his heart. He presses his lips into a thin line and opens his eyes, and what he finds renders him in more pain.

 

Daichi is frowning. His jaw is slack in shock, but his eyebrows are pinched together and his eyes are filled with confusion.

 

Suga runs his mouth before he can think. “I’m—I am so sorry, Daichi. I thought you were—oh my god. I’m sorry,” he blabbers. When he reaches out for Daichi’s arms, Daichi takes several steps back. Suga can feel his eyes getting hot, his bottom lip wobbling, his hands shaking. Suddenly there is no sufficient oxygen for his lungs to inhale, his breath comes in short spikes of painful intake.

 

Suga’s initial shock and hurt turn into something darker. The longer Daichi stays silent, the more urgent he feels. “Say something, please,” he begs, vaguely hushed, not trusting his voice.

 

Daichi opens and closes his mouth a few times, and as much as Suga wants to call himself a lenient person, it’s just slowly drawing away his patience.

 

“I’m… confused,” is what Daichi says. It’s disappointing, if Suga is allowed to call it that way, but even more painful with how careful Daichi has said his name. Like they’re back to square one. Everything is hesitant and it’s almost as if they don’t know each other at all. Which Suga wishes isn’t true—he wants them to know each other as much as he thought they did.

 

But now, with them staring at each other with equally blank stares, accentuated with respective pinched faces, Suga isn’t sure anymore.

 

“No shit,” Suga spits back. His hurt transformed into anger a few blinks ago. The night flashes in his head. “So I was just making shit up for thinking you might be into me the way I’m into you? So I was reading too much into when you drove us to a hill, drink champagne there together and you fucking cuddled me? What the fuck, Daichi?”

 

Daichi backs up even farther, practically backtracking to the beach entrance. “I’ll, I’m—” he visibly gulps, like a huge lump is obstructing his airway. “I’m confused right now. I can’t think. I’m sorry.”

 

Suga stands there in stunned silence, watching Daichi turn his back on him. A few pace up, Daichi stops in his tracks, and Suga’s stomach churns. Daichi turns to look back at him, mouth halfway open, as if wanting to say something. To Suga’s dismay, Daichi closes his mouth and starts to walk away again.

 

Consumed by his rage, Suga yells out, “Well, thanks for nothing!” to Daichi’s unusually hunched back. He ignores the hot liquid running down his face, the blurriness of his vision and storms off the opposite direction.

 

Somehow he finds his way back to the inn. Granted, it takes longer than it should have; he might have gotten lost more than once, not that he can remember. His phone has been vibrating like crazy for the past few minutes, and once he made the mistake of stopping and checking who it was, hoping it was Daichi, but it was Iwaizumi. He doesn’t know exactly what time is it, he just knows that he’s bone tired and hurt. He wants to go right to sleep and not endure whatever inquisition his friends have prepared for him.

 

As suspected, his friends are already waiting for him in the living room of their rented room. They’re sitting around the low table in varying degrees of worry. Iwaizumi is gnawing on his lip and frowning, Kuroo has his arms folded and intently looking at his phone, Akaashi looks nonchalant but the line of his shoulders is tense, and next to him is Bokuto, asleep and drooling. Bokuto is now Suga’s only friend.

 

One look at Suga’s face, understanding dawns on his friends’ faces. Iwaizumi still looks reasonably angry. Akaashi stands up before anyone else can. “Suga-san, where have you—”

 

“Off to find out that nothing worked out,” Suga cuts him off, anger building again. “Thank you so much, Akaashi.”

 

For the first time in years of them knowing each other, this is the first time Suga sees Akaashi looking so stricken. Suga is abruptly grateful that Bokuto is asleep, because who knows how angry the guy would be, seeing Akaashi getting yelled at. Suga absolutely does not want to see Bokuto angry.

 

Leaving his friends shellshocked, Suga slams the door to where the futons are. In his newfound solitude, fresh tears make its way down his face again, sobs racking through his body. He tries to bury his whimpers with a pillow. With his own rattling whimpers as a lullaby, he pases out.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

The next morning, to say the least, is awkward. One thing Suga is grateful for: no one told Bokuto how Suga lashes out on Akaashi. He doesn’t think Bokuto even notices the uneasiness hanging in the air. Akaashi seems unperturbed as usual, though who knows what’s running in his mind. Suga already forms a plan to apologize without everyone else around, but he still needs time to find the willpower to do it. He can’t even find his appetite. Right now, the only prominent thing he can feel is hollowness.

 

He’s perfectly aware that he was being unfair to Akaashi last night. Akaashi never guaranteed anything in the first place, and Suga just needed someone to blame. He’s supposed to have better self control than this, and he doesn’t know if the feeling of seeing the hurt in Akaashi’s eyes is better or worse than the feeling of him being disappointed in himself.

 

As the sun gets higher, the group disperses gradually. Even Bokuto, who usually isn’t keen on going anywhere without Akaashi, plays right into Suga’s plan and tails Kuroo to god-knows-where. Suga inwardly apologizes to Bokuto.

 

Akaashi is sitting by the window when Suga is done seeing Bokuto off. His nose is up in his book—unusual, Akaashi usually puts a safe distance to prevent damage to his sight—and Suga is hit with the realization that Akaashi had been faking the whole indifference thing. With Akaashi’s pain in plain sight like this, Suga is embarrassed to have hurt his friend.

 

Taking quiet steps, Suga approaches Akaashi slowly before lowering himself into the seat opposite of his friend. He still can’t see Akaashi’s face, but he can see how tight Akaashi’s shoulders are drawn.

 

“Akaashi—” Suga cuts himself off in surprise when Akaashi abruptly put down the book. Suga tries to swallow the lump in his throat, seeing Akaashi’s expression so sour. Suddenly he forgets his whole speech, his apology to Akaashi. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

 

Akaashi stares back at him in silence.

 

“I didn’t know what I was thinking—I wasn’t even thinking. I shouldn’t have blamed you because it’s not your fault, I was being dumb.” Suga messes his hair in agitation. “I don’t even know what to say, Akaashi. I’m just really sorry. I was frustrated, hurt, and you got the worst of it because I was being unwise. I’m sorry.”

 

It’s not a lot, not a whole speech and nowhere as long as the original apology Suga memorized—and forgot, he thinks bitterly.

 

“I don’t need your apology, Suga-san,” Akaashi replies, voice tight. “Apologizing is the proper thing to do, yes, but I knew you weren’t doing well. I was mostly just shocked. I’m still hurt that you were so angry and took it out on me, but I’ll be fine in a bit.”

 

There’s finality to it. Like somehow Akaashi managed to also say, _don’t apologize again, I don’t want to hear it_ through his tone of speaking. It’s good to know that this topic won’t be brought up again, but Suga still can’t rest easy and let out a sigh of relief.

 

“What do I need to do? To make it up?” Suga asks. He hates how timid he sounds, he was totally going for self-assured.

 

“Nothing. You’re my friend and things like that happens. I’ll be okay.”

 

“I was so mean.”

 

Akaashi picks up the page he last read and continues. “You were. Now will you give me some time alone? You don’t have to leave, just don’t try to talk to me, I’m getting to the good part,” Akaashi quickly adds when Suga starts to stand.

 

Some of the tension bleeds away from Suga’s shoulders, at least Akaashi still doesn’t mind his company, that’s enough for now. He’ll make sure to treat Akaashi to anything once they’re back in Tokyo.

 

Going back to Tokyo is an unpleasant subject for him, but it’s looming by the threshold and he can’t keep ignoring it. As good as things go right now, with Akaashi already forgiving him, he still feels awful. Not even emotionally—he’s all drained to the bone. His whole body aches and his head and heart hurt. This morning when he woke up to no calls or texts from Daichi, he turned off his phone and took the battery out. He knows he’s owed an explanation. Even a _sorry, I can’t do this_ would suffice since he’s already setting the bar really low. But nothing.

 

Suga hates how his mind keeps supplying hopeful comments, feeding into his budding desire to be reached out by Daichi. Last night should’ve been enough. Daichi never took this seriously and now not even trying to appease the situation. It was all a lie. To him, Suga is probably disposable.

 

One blink and the next, Suga finds himself tucked in his futon on the ground. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep or moving from his spot in front of Akaashi in the living room. He racks through his brain and finds no recollection of getting up and tucking himself into the futon. Looking around, none of his friends are present. He peeks into the living room but Akaashi is also gone with his book, only a kettle and a cup are left on the low table.

 

Suga scratches his head. How peculiar.

 

Not long until he walks up to the table that he realizes there’s a piece of paper lying next to the cup. Curious, he sits down and reads it.

 

_Hope this helps to make you feel better. You fell asleep and I moved you. Didn’t know what to say to your face that won’t be hurtful, so this is the most I can do. -A_

 

Eyes burning and airway tightening, Suga quickly looks up. He ignores the one tear that escapes and rolls down his face to his chin. His embarrassment is complete. He is the worst friend in the whole Japan, probably in the whole world. Akaashi is younger than him but so much wiser and collected, and above all, Akaashi is his friend. Why would it ever cross his mind that Akaashi would hurt him purposefully by making him hopeful? If anything, it’s his fault for holding too much onto that hope and projecting it as Akaashi’s idea, and when it fails, it’s easier for him to hold Akaashi accountable for it.

 

God, Daichi fucking sucks.

 

The air is still and Suga tries to focus on that. It transfers a bit of tranquility to his state of mind, enough for him to not start crying again. He reaches out to the kettle and puts a hand on it. Still warm. So Suga must’ve not slept that long, or the tea has just recently been made. The thought brings another wave of regret and he drowns it by pouring the tea for himself.

 

There is a reason why people love Akaashi’s tea so much, and this is why. The calming effect is immediate, loosening Suga’s shoulders and limbs. It’s so rich on the tongue that Suga thinks it would still taste as good even if it’s drank cold.

 

Suga decides to not drink all of it, in case the rest of his friends want the tea, too. He sniffs his armpit and grimaces. The bath at the back of the inn is waiting for him. Feeling mostly vacant but weirdly relaxed, Suga makes his way to the baths.

 

He didn’t bother to check the clock, but it must be around late afternoon because there are some people already around. Granted, it’s sparse, but Suga has difficulty finding a private spot and he’s forced to sit next to a stranger in the hot spring.

 

One way or another, Suga dozes off again. His body still feels like it’s been hit by a truck, but the nap had him reinvigorated.

 

When he gets out of the baths, he notices the sky deepening into orange. The sight makes him want to jog at the beach, if only to see the sunset, but there’s a twinge in his chest that reminds him it would just be painful to be back at the beach so soon. Granted, it’s not the same beach as last night, since that beach is on the opposite side of the island, but this one still has a lot of memories. Suga really hopes none of his friends ask why he doesn’t want to go visit the beach for one last time.

 

Surprisingly, his friends are already back in their room. He would’ve thought this being their last night here, they would be out late to check out all the places they left out.

 

“You guys are back already,” Suga notes.

 

Kuroo looks up from his phone. “Oh, hey. Yeah, we’re packing our things tonight.”

 

Right. Packing. “Shit. I forgot.” Another string of curses flow out of Suga’s mouth.

 

“It’s okay, chill,” Iwaizumi cuts in. “The ferry probably won’t even be here until like five p.m. tomorrow. We’re just starting to pack now so we don’t forget anything rather than rushing everything in the morning.”

 

“Yup!” Bokuto saunters in, an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. “That way we got time during the day to see around one last time.”

 

Suga was literally a second away from sighing in relief until Bokuto says that. Is Daichi’s shop also part of the seeing around they’re doing tomorrow?

 

“We’re only going to take group photos around, it’s fine.” Akaashi waves a hand. God bless Akaashi for subtly reassuring him.

 

“There are so many moyai statues that we haven’t checked out, you won’t believe,” Kuroo chimes in. “I’m taking pictures of all of them tomorrow.”

 

Suga appreciates how passionate Kuroo is, especially considering the guy is an art major, this could be a good opportunity for him, but Suga is anxious to just go straight to the harbor. The longer he stays on the island, the crazier he gets from the increasing odds of bumping into Daichi.

 

The group collectively agrees to retire early for the night. As soon as they finish eat dinner, they take turns brushing teeth then go to sleep.

 

While everyone is asleep or well on the way to be, Suga lies on his futon wide awake. If he felt hollowed out before, right now he’s plain anguished. His phone is still dead, inconspicuously lying on the dresser, and this is the first time he’s craving for his phone this much. He knows he’s bound to be disappointed if he does turn on his phone, so he tamps down his longing and feeds himself the idea that nothing, no one is waiting to reach out to him. With the lonely thought, Suga slips into a dreamless slumber.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

 

“Oi, this is your fucking underwear,” is all the warning Suga gets before a fabric is thrown at his face.

 

“Great aim!” Suga calls out, voice muffled. It’s true, it is his boxer. He’s been looking for it since the first day they arrived at the island.

 

“Not that hard when the target is your head and full offense, you got a big head.” Iwaizumi shrugs. What a lovely friend.

 

“None taken. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 

“I said, full offense.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Suga is glad his humor is returning before it becomes too obvious that he’s moping. It’s midday and earlier this morning, Akaashi told him that he’s sulking less. The progress makes him even happier, and now he’s at least in a stable, neutral mood. He’s gotten good at imprisoning the part of him that longs for Daichi—for one last chance to see him.

 

So, it’s not entirely surprising that hope flares up in his chest again, fueled by his longing, when Kuroo walks into the room and looks straight at Suga, saying, “Someone is here to see you.”

 

Suga desperately wants to say that he’s not expecting anything, or anyone, but the fact that he promptly abandons his packing progress and runs out into the lobby says otherwise. His body moved on its own accord, and when his eyes fall on the figure standing outside the inn, he has to forcibly stop his brisk stride.

 

The last time Suga saw him, he was taken aback and confused, running away from Suga’s kiss.

 

Right now, Daichi stands firm in front of the inn’s porch, as if no matter Suga refuses to see him or not, he’s still going to wait there until Suga comes out. He’s staring into the distance with his jaw set, dangling from his hand is a plastic bag, and he looks as miserable as Suga feels.

 

Suga shouldn’t be happy to see Daichi feeling awful, but it gives the ugly side of him a grim satisfaction. It makes him want to fling himself off the ferry he’s taking this evening.

 

At first, Daichi doesn’t notice Suga warily getting closer. But when Suga steps out into the porch, Daichi turns and lands his eyes on Suga.

 

A lump starts to form in Suga’s throat, easily the size of tennis ball and as heavy as stone, and don’t ask him how he knows. Trying to find something to ease his anxiety, Suga starts playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie. He can’t even begin to describe what he feels, everything is all mixed up in his chest and he wants to both laugh and cry. An ache gnaws at him, which he initially thought as hurt, but now he realizes it’s both the relief of seeing Daichi in flesh and the craving of reaching out to him.

 

Daichi breaks the silence after an eternity of them taking each other in. “Do you want to go on a walk?” he asks, voice as shaky as Suga feels, and extends a hand holding a Pocari Sweat. So that’s what was inside the plastic bag, Suga thinks.

 

The drink is almost like a peace offering, and Suga gladly takes it, though he instinctively draws away when their fingers brush. Heartbreak paints Daichi’s face, which Suga pretends not to notice.

 

They start a pace towards the beach, which is starting to get significantly more deserted now that summer vacation is ending. For some reason, they inaudibly agree not to actually enter the beach because of the sand. Even after… everything, their chemistry and telepathic bond are still impeccable. To Suga, it’s quite maddening. He wants to get this over with.

 

The beachy landscape turns into rows of houses. Suga didn’t even notice they took a turn, since he was too busy silently fuming and trying not to let it show.

 

Daichi stops in front of a barbed wire fence. It’s embarrassing to admit that Suga actually stomps ahead like a child while Daichi is calmly waiting there. In his defense, it’s a lot easier to be tearfully angry while turning your back on the person you want to yell at the most. Way, way less humiliating.

 

“Is there a purpose to this at all?” Suga demands, still childishly not facing Daichi. “I need to pack my stuff.”

 

“You already packed your stuff last night and you’re only leaving this evening,” Daichi points out. Suga bites his tongue to stop himself from asking how Daichi knows, because Daichi answers that quickly. “Kuroo told me.”

 

“Of course he did.” Suga dejectedly cards his hair back with his fingers, turning around. “Listen, whatever it is you want from me, please just tell me. I already apologized but I’d do it again, just make it quick. I’m mortified enough as it is.”

 

Infuriation burns through Suga’s bloodstream when Daichi has the gall to look stunned. The anger subsides when Daichi’s face softens and—for fuck’s sake—turns sad.

 

“Suga, I…”

 

It costs every ounce of Suga’s patience, but he keeps reminding himself that he’s a decent person. A decent person waits for another person to finish their sentence.

 

“I was… confused.” To be fair, Daichi still looks plenty confused right now, but Suga stays silent. “When you—” Nervous peek at Suga. “Kissed me. It was so overwhelming that I didn’t know what to think or feel. It’s because I wanted to do that first, but I chickened out and you took the initiative and I was just. A mess.”

 

The longer Daichi talks, the wider Suga’s mouth falls open. He thought there must be an earthquake, but it’s just his whole body vibrating. Even the Pocari Sweat bottle in his hand is holding onto dear life.

 

“I needed time, that’s why I didn’t immediately reach out to you. When I did, your phone was off—frankly, my voicemails to you are so embarrassing, please delete them and don't listen to those.” Daichi clears his throat. His voice is dangerously steady that it gives Suga chills. “But basically, Suga, I like you. I really fucking like you.” Has Suga mentioned that he likes it when Daichi curses? “In the way I want to take you on more late night trips to hills just to stargaze and drink champagne that I stole from my dad’s stash with you, in the way I want to show you more of myself and everything you want to know about me, in the way I wanted to kiss you back. That way.”

 

 _That_ takes the cake. Suga lets the bottle drop—sorry, Pocari Sweat—and walks up to Daichi with sure steps. He grabs the collar of Daichi’s shirt and says, “You’re such an idiot.”

 

The last thing that Suga sees is Daichi looking affronted, a retort ready on the tip of his tongue, but Suga smothers it away with a kiss. It’s good as far as kisses go, but if Suga’s being honest and cheesy, this one is incomparable to any other kisses.

 

There is a split second of doubt and fear creeping in, but instead of tensing up again, Daichi brings a hand up to cup Suga’s jaw and deepens the kiss. With Daichi’s lips warm and pliable under his, Suga lets go of Daichi’s collar and circle his arms around Daichi’s neck instead. Suga can’t help a satisfied smile when he slips a hand into Daichi’s hair, tugging gently, and Daichi lets out a pleased sigh.

 

It genuinely feels like a lifetime—a lifetime that Suga would never exchange for anything else—until they part and touch foreheads.

 

“Hey, Suga,” Daichi whispers, the huff of his breath fanning against Suga’s lips.

 

“Yeah?” Suga says, just as quiet.

 

Daichi’s lips curl into a lopsided grin. “No littering.”

 

“Ugh.” Suga makes a face at Daichi, but then he remembers the barbed wire fence.

 

At once, he becomes super aware of their predicament. His hand is still buried in Daichi’s hair, loosely grabbing a handful. Their bodies are flush against each other, Suga can feel Daichi’s heart thumping through their shirts. Suga hastily withdraws.

 

“Where are we?” he asks, eyeing the building inside the fence. It looks like a school backyard, but Suga can’t find the name.

 

“This is… the back of my elementary school.”

 

Suga snaps his head back at Daichi in disbelief. “You really made out with me here? You’re so weird.”

 

“Eh, I was actually expecting you to call me nasty, but this is a pleasant surprise.” Daichi shrugs indifferently. Suga rolls his eyes at him. “And I did tell you I wanted to show you more of my childhood. Of myself.”

 

“That,” Suga says as he picks up his Pocari Sweat bottle from the ground, “is extremely cheesy, Sawamura.”

 

“I’m cheesy and proud of it,” Daichi counters. They fall into steps together, and though Suga doesn’t know his way around that much, even he knows they’re just aimlessly walking around. Anything to drag out their time together, just being side by side like this.

 

Bringing up the subject of leaving Niijima is the last thing on Suga’s list desired things to do, but he knows it’s necessary. “We really figured things out last minute, didn’t we.” Suga sighs deeply whilst also reminding himself that sighing too much might not appear very attractive to Daichi.

 

Daichi looks down at his feet. “Yeah, we did,” he agrees. The wounded look is back on his face and Suga needs to refrain himself from cooing. He’s so inappropriate. Suga watches Daichi lift his head up and gazes back at him. “I shouldn’t be asking you this, but when does college start again for you?”

 

For a moment, it sounds like a frivolous thing to ask, but then Suga catches on with the direction Daichi is going. “On the first,” Suga answers, a delighted smile betraying his previously calm demeanor.

 

“That—that’s not until next week,” Daichi stumbles through his words from his excitement. “Do you need to be back by tomorrow? Can’t you stay here a bit?”

 

“No, I don’t have to.” Suga allows himself a wide grin. “It’s just an incentive to allow us some time getting ready for the new semester.” He stops in his tracks and turns to face Daichi. “I’m calling Kuroo.”

 

Suga doesn’t know what he expected, but it comes as a pleasant surprise that Kuroo just responds with the most lukewarm but weirdly supportive answer.

 

“Hey, do you mind going on ahead to Tokyo?” Suga asks, voice crackling with anxiety, when Kuroo picks up the phone. “I’m thinking of staying here for a bit longer.”

 

Silence engulfs the line.

 

“I’ll leave your stuff in the lobby, then,” Kuroo decides after a painful half minute. “We’re taking home the heavy stuff like sleeping bag, assuming you’re staying with Sawamura and won’t be needing it?”

 

Suga panics momentarily, since he never even told Kuroo about Daichi or mentioned Daichi to him. Calm is easy to find again when Daichi gently takes Suga’s hand in his and Suga’s mind clears.

 

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Kuroo.” Suga bites his lips, feeling like he needs to say something more. “I, uh, thanks,” Suga repeats meekly. He sounds like a dumbass.

 

“Hey, it’s all fine,” Kuroo reassures with his Nekoma High School Volleyball Club Captain Voice. Or ex. Whichever nickname makes Kuroo happy, Suga is happy, too. “I’m leaving some condoms in the first zipper of your backpack, yeah? It’s in the pocket thingy. Be safe.”

 

Suga chokes on air and thanks all the gods that he didn’t put Kuroo on speaker. “Yup, thanks,” he replies, voice pinched. “See you in Tokyo. I promise I’ll be there for the opening ceremony.”

 

Kuroo hums. “Good, good. Most importantly, have fun, okay?”

 

“I will,” Suga briskly answers. The conversation gets more painful and discomfiting the longer it’s drawn out. “Bye.”

 

The line goes dead and they start walking again. Their stroll is still aimless, but they make sure to stop at souvenir shops and ice cream trucks. At one point they even came to hold hands, though Suga can’t remember when that happened for the life of him. It feels nice, strangely boyish and innocent, like he’s been thrown back to his younger days filled with similar naiveté.

 

Suga starts swinging their intertwined hands together, just for the sake of it. A giggle erupts from within him, finding the childishness of it somehow funny. The adoring looks Daichi keeps sending him also doesn’t help at all to tame the heat in his cheeks.

 

It’s well past sunset when Suga and Daichi reach the inn. True to Kuroo’s words, Suga’s single backpack is already waiting in the lobby, by the receptionist counter. Daichi swiftly walks up to the counter and greets the owner of the inn, all the while not letting go of Suga’s hand. What he expected was disapproving, judging response, but the woman beams at both of them. An invisible weight disappears from his shoulders.

 

“Good evening, boys,” the woman greets back warmly. The motherly grace she has brings odd placidity to Suga. It’s new to him, but pleasant and welcome.

 

“We’re here to pick up Suga’s bag,” Daichi explains, pointing a thumb at Suga.

 

“So I’ve heard.” The woman—Suga is actually getting tired of referring her that way, he needs to ask Daichi what her name is, he forgot—smiles. “Take it and go home. It’s about to rain tonight, perfect weather for sleeping.”

 

“In late August?” Suga wonders out loud. He thinks of his friends taking the ferry, sailing in the sea.

 

“Ah, don’t worry. The winds won’t be too harsh, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she placates him, Suga doesn’t know what else he should be worried about. She pushes Suga’s backpack towards them. “Off you boys go.”

 

To Suga’s dismay, Daichi reaches out for the backpack first. “It’s okay, I can carry it,” Daichi says, holding a thumb up. It’s not that Suga doubts Daichi’s strength, he just doesn’t want to be more of a nuisance. He has a suspicion that Daichi knows this, but still carries the backpack for him out of chivalry anyways.

 

The walk to Daichi’s house is—thankfully—brief. It’s close to the inn, and while Daichi is unlocking the front door, Suga wonders how many times Daichi passes by the inn, hoping that Suga would be waiting by the steps during the time they weren’t talking. It’s more of a wishful thinking on Suga’s part, but if Daichi told the truth and had been as miserable as Suga was, the hypothesis is plausible.

 

“You’ve been here before,” Daichi says, opening the door. “But I didn’t get to show you around. Welcome to the Sawamura Residence.”

 

The house—at least the parts that Suga’s seen—still looks the same, but considering he’s going to stay here for at least a few days changes his perspective. His eyes readjust and see the house in a different light.

 

This is the house where Daichi grew up, where Daichi had memorable experiences in, where Daichi probably feels the safest. If Daichi gets homesick, this is the place that Daichi probably envisions. The information floods Suga’s brain and he has to actually shake his head to shake off his confusion.

 

Suga tails Daichi into a room. It’s a bit cluttered but not dirty, and Suga immediately knows it’s Daichi’s room. Involuntarily, his cheeks heat up. It feels like his face is constantly set aflame around Daichi.

 

“I’ll just put this here,” Daichi shrugs off the backpack and props it against the wall next to a dresser. “Sorry for the mess. I’ll show you around later, but we need to eat dinner first.”

 

Suga didn’t know it was possible for him to get even more smitten with Daichi, but the affection he has intensifies when he finds out Daichi can cook. He watches from the counter while Daichi—in an honest-to-god apron—works. The atmosphere is so domestic it physically hurts.

 

When Daichi is done, the food is splayed on the low dining table, still steaming. Suga can feel himself salivating until Daichi nudges him and tells him to sit down.

 

“Thank you for the food,” Suga says before digging in. It’s just some grilled mackerel and rice, with miso soup and salad that Suga refuses to eat because he doesn’t like vegetables.

 

“You’re such a child,” Daichi chides, force feeding him a slice of cucumber from the salad. Grudgingly, Suga chews and gulps it down. It’s not half bad when Daichi is the one feeding him, but he needs to keep up with his mature persona. “Oh, I forgot something,” is all Daichi says before suddenly standing up and going back into the kitchen.

 

Suga feels bad eating alone, so he sneakily eats small bits of his food until Daichi walks back into the dining room, bringing a bowl. The sharp smell coming from the food is so familiar that Suga promptly sits up straight.

 

“Is that mapo tofu?” Suga implores.

 

The question is answered when Daichi lowers the bowl and Suga can see what’s inside. Suga almost bursts into tears when he finds out that, yes, it’s mapo tofu and yes, it’s the super spicy one. Suga plants a kiss on Daichi’s cheek and hugs him.

 

“I haven’t had this for weeks! Where did you buy this?” Suga absently rambles, serving himself the tofu. Something dawns on him and he pauses mid-motion. “How did you know this is my favorite food?”

 

“Uh… Kuroo? I think he said something about you liking super spicy mapo tofu, that night when we all had dinner together,” Daichi answers nervously, still looking dazed and weirdly red in the face.

 

Suga huffs out a laugh. “Of course.” He scoops a spoonful of the dish and eats it. The taste stuns him into stillness.

 

“What’s wrong? Is it bad? What’s lacking?” Daichi sets into motion, uncharacteristically fussy. “Suga, are you okay?”

 

“Daichi, did you…” Suga starts, clearing his throat. “Did you, perhaps, cook this yourself?”

 

Under Suga’s gaze, Daichi looks hilariously shifty. “That’s possible, yeah.”

 

“Come here.” Suga beckons Daichi closer. Daichi leans over, but not close enough. “Closer.” Daichi complies. When there’s only a mere few centimeters between them, Suga pulls Daichi into a kiss. It’s nowhere as passionate as their kiss earlier in the day. In fact, this one is chaste, more of a press of his lips against Daichi’s.

 

The dazed look is back on, and Suga pinches Daichi’s nose from how cute it is.

 

“Thank you. The mapo tofu is perfect.”

 

That at least breaks Daichi out of his trance. Instantly he grins at Suga, looking so proud and happy and so, so handsome that Suga wants to kiss him again. The fact that he actually manages to restrain himself from smooching Daichi into oblivion truly shows his maturity level.

 

They continue eating again, seated next to each other and their sides all pressed up. There’s no more feeding, unfortunately for Suga, but it’s still comforting to have Daichi by his side. Simply spending time with Daichi like this makes him content enough.

 

As famished as Suga was, he reached his limit for the night and some food end up being leftovers. He stands up and stretches, trying to shake off his sleepiness. While Daichi brings the leftovers into the fridge, Suga washes the dishes. It goes without saying that Daichi complains about it.

 

“You’re a guest here, you don’t need to do the chores,” Daichi says, arms crossed petulantly.

 

“Let me be, Sawamura,” Suga shoots back. It doesn’t take long until Daichi relents and resorts to circling his arms around Suga’s waist. Suga stiffens at the initial contact, but goes lax again engulfed in Daichi’s warmth. He even leans back on Daichi’s chest.

 

The amount of physical contact that Suga’s had with Daichi might just send him into short-circuiting, but he really can’t complain. Not when Daichi has his head propped on Suga’s shoulder and his arms firmly hugging Suga’s torso. It’s both soothing and exhilarating, and never in his life has Suga ever felt this strongly about anything, about anyone.

 

Suga pretends he doesn’t want to cling onto Daichi himself when they separate to put the plates and utensils in their places. Naturally Suga, who doesn’t know where is where, takes longer that he needs help from Daichi. His heart almost falls out of his chest from surprise when he sees the clock and it shows half past nine. He doesn’t even realize it’s gotten this late.

 

“Do you mind if we push back the house tour?” Daichi asks, already padding ahead towards his room. Suga watches his back and reluctantly follows. “It’s getting late and you must be tired.”

 

In his room, Daichi is rummaging through the dresser while Suga watches on from where he’s perched by the doorway. “Daichi?” he calls.

 

“Yeah?” Daichi still doesn’t stop.

 

“Where do I sleep?”

 

Daichi stills, then stands up while grabbing a shirt and some pants in each hand. “Here, of course.” He gestures to the room. The clothes are pushed against Suga’s chest. “Clothes for you to sleep in.”

 

“Okay,” Suga answers. He catches himself rubbing the back his arm, a sign of weakness that he sometimes does without realizing. “Where is the futon?”

 

Daichi turns to look at Suga. “Are you joking?” Suga shakes his head. “You’re sleeping in the bed with me.” It seems like Daichi mistakes Suga’s surprised face as appalled, because he quickly adds, “If you want, of course. I can find a futon, there must be one around.”

 

“Oh, no, no. It’s okay.” Suga smiles at Daichi, though his face is still burning. “I’ll just, uh, use the bathroom.”

 

Suga is already out the door when he remembers he doesn’t have his toothbrush on him. He walks back in ashamedly, feeling like a fool and hoping Daichi doesn’t notice. Once he retrieves his toothbrush, he speeds to the bathroom.

 

The bathroom seems to belong to Daichi. It’s clean and sparse save for some products lining the counter and in the shower. It strongly smells like Daichi and Suga needs to grip the ends of the counter to stop his knees from buckling. Bizarrely, there’s no toothpaste so Suga mentally begs for forgiveness for rummaging through people’s stuff before opening the drawers.

 

Suga finds a seemingly new, unopened toothpaste in the second drawer. Amazingly, next to it lies a box of condoms. He doesn’t dare touch it, but he can feel his face warming up not only from embarrassment, but also jealousy this time. If Daichi is the sole user of this bathroom, why would Daichi have a box of condoms if not to use it? How many people has he used it with? Suga brushes it off and decides to ask Daichi later if he’s not too embarrassed. On top of that, though Daichi is an adult, it’s still pretty brave of him to have condoms around in his parents’ house, Suga admiringly thinks.

 

After brushing his teeth, Suga puts on the clothes Daichi handed him. The shirt is a bit loose on his slender frame, but the pants are fine.

 

Back in the room, Suga scratches his calf with one foot. He feels entirely too weird and he can feel Daichi’s gaze on him the whole time. It’s not like he’s wearing some flattering clothes, it’s just pajama pants and a threadbare shirt.

 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Daichi croaks out, voice strangely dry, and heads to the bathroom himself.

 

Suga takes Daichi’s advice and picks a side on the bed. Just like the bathroom, the bed, the pillow, the covers, smell so much like Daichi that Suga wants to bury himself in it. He doesn’t know a lot about scents, but his best guess is that it smells prominently of sandalwood. Well, as long as it’s not Axe.

 

Suga is sitting on the bed, when in his peripheral he can see Daichi entering the room. He looks up from his phone and he nearly chokes on air. Daichi is wearing a white shirt that heavenly stretches around his biceps and shoulders, the brightness of it contrasting his tanned skin. His hair is slightly damp and pushed back, revealing the entire length of his face. Suga is pretty sure looking that tantalizing is not allowed.

 

Suga thought that Daichi would go around and fill the space next to him, but Daichi is taking long strides towards him with unreadable, intense eyes. He might or might not have yelped when Daichi climbs onto the bed and crawls over him who’s half reclining on the bed.

 

Daichi is on his fours, his arms, supported by his fists, and his legs, bent at the knees, are propped next to both sides of Suga’s body. Suga’s heart skips a beat and then hammers inside his chest. It’s not impossible that Daichi can also hear it.

 

Suga’s whole body heats up except for the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet. He internally prays that Daichi won’t be holding his clammy hands anytime soon.

 

A sigh escapes his lips when Daichi leans in and nips at Suga’s bottom lip.

 

“Stop teasing,” Suga drawls, surprising himself. He doesn’t even know where that came from.

 

Daichi pulls Suga up with him, placing Suga on his lap and brings Suga in for an open-mouthed kiss. Suga pretends he doesn’t shudder when Daichi slips a tongue inside his mouth, and he covers how badly he’s trembling by grabbing handfuls of Daichi’s hair.

 

The air is charged, and it seems like a good time for Suga’s brain to short-circuit. For some reason, though, he still keeps going. He’s not even thinking anymore, just his mouth on Daichi’s, their hands on each other, roaming and exploring.

 

They pull away to tug off each other’s shirts and goes right back into colliding into each other. It’s like in any moment, he could implode. Suga shivers when his bare skin touches Daichi’s.

 

With realization as harsh as cold water dumped over him, he pulls away to stammer out, “S-stop. Can we… stop?”

 

Daichi immediately abandons his efforts into getting Suga to kiss him again and cradles Suga’s face. “Of course, of course, what’s wrong?” Concern is thick in his voice, also shown in his bowed head trying to see Suga’s face and from how he’s rubbing his thumbs back and forth soothingly against Suga’s jaw. “Are you okay?” Daichi asks again, his deep voice sounding unbearably gentle.

 

Through his ragged breath, Suga manages to answer. “Yes, I’m sorry.” He reaches up to hold onto Daichi’s wrist and he can faintly feels the pulse under the skin, matching the fast pace of his heartbeat. A knot loosens in his stomach. “I’m okay. I’m so sorry.”

 

“No, please don’t apologize,” Daichi whispers. He brushes away some of Suga’s stray hair and tucks it behind his hear. “Thank you for respecting your own boundaries.”

 

Suga doesn’t know how it’s possible to have this much fondness towards someone. He looks up at Daichi and his eyes start heating up out of a sudden. Whatever he feels for Daichi, he has no idea to describe it. He just knows that Daichi makes his heart incredibly full to the point that it hurts.

 

“I… I’ve never done this before. It’s just—everything is happening too freaking fast, and it’s so—” Suga sniffs. He doesn’t know just how to finish that sentence. No strong enough word to describe how overcome he is.

 

“Overwhelming?” Daichi suggests, which Suga nods to, though he still silently wonders if there is another word stronger than that. He feels better when Daichi softly smiles and places a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Let’s just cuddle tonight. What do you say?”

 

“Sounds good,” Suga confirms.

 

Once Suga is done collecting himself, they both duck under the covers while giggling like the oversized children they are. Unfortunately for Suga, Daichi makes a grab for his—clammy, ugh—hand and laces their fingers together. For some reason, they both find it so fascinating that they just stare at their intertwined hands.

 

Suga can’t help the way his insides melt when Daichi brings Suga’s hand to his lips and kisses the back of Suga’s hand. The moment is so tender and even in the dark, Suga tries to find Daichi’s face and kisses him full on the mouth.

 

They emerge from the covers only to stare into each other’s eyes. Suga knows he will look back at this and grimaces at how cheesy this all is, but right now he is perfectly content to stay like this with Daichi.

 

“Tomorrow,” Daichi says, all hushed. “We will talk this out tomorrow.”

 

Suga nods. He doesn’t actually know what they need to talk out, but his vision is already getting dim and he’s already halfway to sleep. The last thing he sees through half-lidded eyes is Daichi looking at him affectionately, then sleep comes to claim him.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

The coffee maker is broken, Suga deduces. It keeps whirring and coughing but won’t produce any coffee. To be fair, it’s a different model than the one he has back in Tokyo, but how different could it be?

 

 _Pretty different_ , he imagines the machine says.

 

Why is it so hard for him to do something nice for Daichi in return? He slept so well last night that he woke up before seven earlier. That’s a miracle for him. And if he’s confident in anything about himself, it’s his coffee-making abilities. He always gets compliments on his coffee, but now the hope to make Daichi coffee is shattered because the coffeemaker doesn’t even work.

 

Sunlight is streaming in through the windows as Suga googles how to make the machine work.

 

The last time he checked—he was making too much ruckus in the kitchen and was afraid of waking up Daichi because of that—Daichi is still fast asleep. His heart warmed up when he saw—his boyfriend?—Daichi grasping the sheets where Suga was just sleeping on, as if looking for him.

 

Now he might just have broken Daichi’s coffee machine.

 

Fortunately, after a few tries later with pointers from Google results, the machine works. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air. High on joy, Suga punches the air.

 

“Suga…?” A quiet voice calls out. Suga jumps eight meters into the air and turns around. Daichi is standing by the entrance of the kitchen, leaning on the wall and rubbing the gunk out of his eyes.

 

It’s such an endearing picture until Suga’s eyes travel down and he realizes Daichi is still shirtless. Infinite curses run through Suga’s mind but he manages not to avert his eyes and be strong.

 

“Good morning,” Suga says, trying to sound as chipper as possible.

 

“Morning,” Daichi rasps back, still half-asleep and zombie walks towards Suga. Involuntarily, the hair on the back of Suga’s neck stands up as Daichi latches onto him. “What are you making?”

 

“Just some coffee. Did you sleep well?” Suga asks, suppressing a shiver when Daichi soft breath brushes against his neck.

 

“Yeah, but then I thought you left.” Daichi yawns and lets go, bringing the warmth with him.

 

With encouragements from Suga, Daichi finally sits behind the counter while he makes the coffee. Apparently Daichi has quite the sweet tooth—unsurprising, Suga thinks back to the ice cream and desserts Daichi likes so much—and prefers a lot of sugar in his coffee.

 

“I do like Suga in my coffee a lot.” Daichi grins and Suga flicks his forehead. Horrible puns shouldn’t have sounded that cute, he thinks angrily to himself.

 

Once Daichi collects himself and, to Suga’s disappointment, finds a shirt to put on, he volunteers to make breakfast. It’s just chicken and egg on rice and miso soup, but Suga finds himself enjoying the meal a lot. It’s probably more because of the company, but the food is pretty good, too. He wonders how Daichi knows how to cook. He himself has lived on his own for quite some time and still doesn’t dare touch the stove unless Iwaizumi is around to supervise.

 

His thought is cut off with a moan from Daichi. “This is divine,” Daichi says, staring into the coffee Suga made for him.

 

“Thanks, I try. Glad you liked it.” Suga gives him a thumbs up, even though his heart is bursting with happiness and pride from getting a compliment from Daichi.

 

“What are we going to do today?” Daichi asks after gulping the last of his food.

 

Suga fiddles with his fingers and looks down. “Maybe stay in…? You didn’t get to give me that house tour yesterday. And… you said we’re gonna talk things out today?”

 

“Sounds good to me.” Daichi shrugs coolly. Hard to believe this is the same man who clung onto Suga like a koala and made a sugar pun not even an hour ago.

 

There isn’t much in the house, and it’s not that big, so the house tour—minus Daichi’s parents’ room—ends pretty quick. They take most time looking at pictures on the wall. There is a lot of Daichi growing up, from tiny Daichi to the most recent one.

 

Even though Daichi wasn’t the most private person to begin with, Suga still feels beyond happy to be let in like this. It’s like instead of being allowed to peek into Daichi’s life through a window, he’s now beckoned to enter through the front door. His previous hookups with guys have always been about secrecy, something forbidden and shushed, the fact that they’re in Tokyo completely overlooked. But now Daichi is completely open to the idea of them together, so proud of letting people know they’re together. It gives Suga courage, too.

 

“That’s all, I guess,” Daichi concludes after Suga is done taking pictures of Daichi as a child. “What about you? You gotta show me stuff, or else it won’t be fair.”

 

Suga follows Daichi’s lead and flops down on the couch, quickly settling into Daichi’s outstretched arm. “There’s nothing to see,” he sings. Running through his mind is a roll of embarrassing photos of him in high school. Especially middle school. It’s a nightmare.

 

“Oh, come on,” Daichi whines. It’s so out of place with his broad figure and deep voice, Suga has to double take to make sure it’s Daichi who whined. Suddenly there’s a glint in Daichi’s eyes that Suga definitely doesn’t like. “Or I could just ask Kuroo. You guys are friends since high school, right? I’m sure he has more embarrassing pictures of you.”

 

“Urrrrgggg, fine, fine, fine!” Suga growls. He whips out his phone and angrily scrolls through Facebook for old photos. He sighs. “You could’ve just ended it when you said you could ask Kuroo. You’re too powerful for me now.” After a few more scrolling, he finds a tagged picture from when he was still in Karasuno. He shoves the device at Daichi’s face and resolutely says, “I don’t know what you expected, but here.”

 

It’s not the worst picture, thankfully, but it’s also not the best. It’s Suga’s worst angle and his hair was really greasy when it was taken. He didn’t even know someone was taking his picture.

 

“Oh,” Daichi says, voice and face not betraying anything.

 

“Yeah, oh,” Suga affirms, heat filling up his face.

 

“Your hair was longer.”

 

Suga looks up in surprise. Out of the many things Daichi could ask, like why does he look like _that_. “Uh, yeah… I had a middle part,” Suga lamely says. “I was skinnier, though, I think.”

 

Daichi nods in agreement. “Yeah, you were.” The arm around Suga’s shoulders tighten. “You look healthier now. I’m glad.”

 

Despite his embarrassment, Suga kisses Daichi on the cheek. The phone is abandoned not long after, for the sake of them cuddling on the couch. The air is filled with a companionable silence, the one that Suga doesn’t need to break.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Daichi says mildly, causing Suga to shift his head a bit to look at him. “So, I guess we’re going out now?”

 

Suga can’t help but smile. “I don’t usually dwell much on labels… but yeah, we’re boyfriends now. Only if you want, of course.”

 

“Sounds great to me,” Daichi says, nuzzling the side of Suga’s head. He pauses momentarily. “Do your friends know about us?”

 

Doubt and panic start to creep in. Somehow Suga manages to keep it under the surface. “Do you mind if they do?” he asks back.

 

“Of course not,” Daichi answers distractedly. “I was just afraid they don’t like me or us together. Or something.”

 

A chortle erupts out of Suga. “Daichi, they love you.”

 

“They do?”

 

“Kuroo clearly likes you—he kept inviting you to stuff, didn’t he? Bokuto generally likes everyone and you’re no exception. Iwaizumi is a bit picky but he seems to respect you, though he doesn’t mention you much.” Suga scratches his chin. “I never know what Akaashi is thinking, but he sees you as a good person. And his intuition is right. He’s incredible.”

 

“Are you guys close?” Daichi asks, his tone weirdly tentative. “I’m not sure I know which one Akaashi is.”

 

Suga burrows further into Daichi’s side, looking off at the corner of the room. This thought has plagued him for so long, and until now he still doesn’t know for sure. “To me, he’s always been my best friend. I don’t know what I am for him, he never tells me anything about him. What he’s thinking, what he’s going through.”

 

“He sounds like someone who needs time to open up?”

 

“He is. But it’s been years, and I still feel like he doesn’t trust me enough.”

 

There’s no response after that, just Daichi rubbing circles into Suga’s shoulder. It’s soothing enough that Suga’s mind quiets and he falls into a state of partial consciousness. He’s aware of his surrounding enough, but not that much to process things. This feeling Daichi gives him is so addictive when all his life he’s always been pressured, and if it’s not people who are loud, it’s his mind making up for the lack of noise.

 

Wakefulness returns to him when he senses his hair being combed. He smacks his lips. “I dozed off,” he notes.

 

“You did.” Daichi beams down at him. “You don’t frown when you sleep. It’s so cute.”

 

“I frown when I’m awake?” Suga frowns, then realizes what he’s doing immediately a second after. “Fine. It’s a habit.”

 

Daichi hums, still playing with Suga’s hair. “Why did you change your hair?”

 

“Aside from my middle part being fucking embarrassing?” Daichi chuckles at that. “I wanted to look mature, grownup, whatever. Like I have control over my life.”

 

Daichi nods. “That makes sense. Also we were talking about your friend, Akaashi.”

 

“We were. What about him?”

 

“I still don’t know which one he is.”

 

Suga pulls away to give Daichi an incredulous look and because his arm is asleep. “The handsome one.”

 

The genuine effort Daichi puts into figuring it out is adorable. Suga has the weirdest urge to pinch his cheeks. “The one with dyed white streaks hair?”

 

It’s not all that surprising that Bokuto is deemed the handsome one, since it’s not a reach at all. Kuroo would surely still seethe. “That’s Bokuto, he’s also the loud one.”

 

Daichi scratches the back of his head. “Then I have no idea which one Akaashi is.”

 

“The audacity…” Suga fakes looking affronted, complete with the hand on his chest. Funnily, Daichi actually buys it until Suga breaks the act and reaches for his phone. “I’ll just show you. He doesn’t speak much in general, so my guess is you never got to talk to him enough to remember his face.”

 

There’s a candid photo of Akaashi in Suga’s camera roll for some reason. Maybe Bokuto took it. He doesn’t have much time to ponder about it and shows Daichi his friend.

 

“Oh, him…” Daichi is nodding as though he’s only recently comprehending something.

 

“Yeah!” Suga grins proudly. The phone is tossed again to the far end of the sofa. “He’s an amazing person.”

 

“I don’t doubt that. He sounds lovely.” The sincerity in Daichi’s voice never fails to catch Suga off guard. It makes him indescribably happy that two important people in his life regard each other so highly.

 

Suga reaches out to squeeze one of Daichi’s hands. There isn’t much to say when Suga’s whole body is filled with so much affection. He smiles at Daichi, knowing that it’s a tender, private one, and hopes that it would suffice.

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

 

The next day, Daichi declares that they go out for the last time, since later in the afternoon Suga will be taking the ferry home. It puts Suga in a mostly melancholic mood, but Daichi has been trying his best to cheer him up.

 

“Here, type in your address,” Daichi demands, holding up his phone screen a few centimeters from the tip of Suga’s nose. After Suga types it in, Daichi fumbles with his phone again before his face brightens. “It’s only a bit over half an hour by train from my house. We can see each other again, Suga. We will.”

 

Suga hugely sighs. “It’s still different if you’re not by my side,” he mumbles. He doesn’t even care how petulant he sounds.

 

“Come on. It won’t be that long until I go back to Tokyo myself.”

 

Suga still crosses his arms childishly while they’re walking down the street to get to the beach. It doesn’t help that Daichi won’t tell him what they’ll be doing at the beach. Apparently, Michimiya is already waiting there, and Suga thought it was something surfing related, but Daichi shut the idea down pretty quick.

 

They’ve only taken a step into the beach when Suga is swarmed with hugs and barraged with cheerful _hello_ ’s. The person right in front of him lets him go and he comes face to face with Michimiya. He blushes from how close she is. “Hello, Michimiya-san…”

 

A hard slap to his shoulder almost sends him flying. “Oh, come on, drop the -san now!” Michimiya laughs. “That’s Yui for you now!”

 

Suga can’t help but look at Daichi helplessly. The shrug and pitying look Daichi sends him practically says, _Sorry, buddy. Can’t help you with this one_. Michimiya—Yui…?—is strong enough to pull Suga and make him sit down on a canvas folding chair. As the surroundings dawn on him, he realizes immediately what they’re doing.

 

“We’re having a barbecue here?” Suga wonders out loud.

 

The surprise on Suga’s face must’ve been funny enough that Yui cackles. “Wow, and I thought Daichi’s plan won’t work! You’re really easy to surprise, aren’t you!”

 

A hand falls on Suga’s shoulder, squeezing it. Suga looks up and finds Daichi smiling mildly down at him. “I was hoping… to throw you a farewell party. Of some sort.” Daichi pats his shoulder. “It’s not much, but my friends also wanted to see you.”

 

Suga gives him a timid gratitude and looks down at his hands in his lap. Stares are upon him, making him severely self-conscious. Judging how Daichi sees things, he must’ve told his friends about him and Suga dating, and so far they’re only getting nice response.

 

There are no guys in sight, though, which Suga frowns at a bit. He feels bad standing up when Yui is occasionally glancing at him to check up on him, making sure he doesn’t help since it’s his party, so he beckons Daichi over.

 

“What’s up? Do you need anything?” Daichi asks, head tilted like a puppy. God, that’s cute.

 

“Do you have no guy friends?” Suga blurts then registers how rude he sounded. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to be so rude, I’m just curious.”

 

Daichi chuckles, the usual warm, gentle sounding one. “It’s fine. I understand the confusion.” He looks around and finds Suga a water bottle. “Drink some. I do have guy friends, I’m a bit sad you don’t get to see them. They didn’t come home for the summer.”

 

Involuntarily, Suga’s lips form an ‘o’ that induces a laugh out of Daichi. It’s a bit annoying how Daichi ruffles his hair afterwards, since he’s older, but Suga secretly preens over how Daichi finds him as adorable as he finds Daichi to be.

 

“Oh, I just remembered something.” Daichi’s voice turns important, suddenly, baiting Suga into standing up himself.

 

“What is it?”

 

Daichi gestures to him to wait a second and turns to his friends by the grill. “Hey, guys—” he starts.

 

“Girls,” some of the girls call back. The way Daichi’s eyes pop out is almost comical, Suga has to press his lips together to refrain himself from laughing.

 

“Yeah… girls… uh, I’m going on a walk a bit. Be back soon.”

 

“Go do you, we’ll be waiting,” Yui hollers back once they walk a few meters down the beach, away from where the girls are huddled together.

 

“So, what is it?” Suga prompts when they’re out of earshot. Daichi quickly shoves a hand down his pocket and when he’s done, his hand is curled into a fist.

 

“Promise me you won’t laugh,” Daichi begs. Suga almost jokingly says no, but he can’t help but be curious seeing how nervous Daichi acts. He solemnly nods.

 

“It might come off as childish, but…” There’s a necklace lying on the center of Daichi’s now outstretched palm. It’s long enough that when worn, it’s probably going to be hidden by clothes, and at a closer look, Suga notices the pendant. It’s a silver surfboard pendant, simple but pretty. “I want you to have this,” Daichi softly says.

 

Suga’s head snaps up in disbelief. “It looks important, though,” he notes, though he’s never seen Daichi wear the accessory. Waves graze their feet, the water lukewarm.

 

“It is,” Daichi confirms, scratching the back of his head. “It’s my first prize from my first official surfing competition.” Suga balks at him. “I, uh, want you to have it, so you’ll know… that I’ll see you again. It’s too important for me to not to take it back again. So, it’s a bit like a guarantee, that we’ll meet again.”

 

A beat or two passes until Suga finds the muscles in his jaw is working again and he closes his mouth. “Daichi, I can’t—”

 

“Please.” The necklace is forcefully shoved into his palm. The cold of the metal bites into his skin. “Hold onto it for me. At least until we’re both in Tokyo and together again.”

 

It’s almost unbearable for Suga to look straight into Daichi’s eyes. Hope and fondness shine in his eyes that Suga’s heart hurts. Is it possible that he’s having a cardiac arrest of some kind?

 

Finally, Suga closes his fingers over the pendant and whispers, “Okay, you better come see me, then. It’s sealed.” He shiftily looks around to check if everyone’s watching, but Daichi takes the first step and plants a kiss on his cheek first before he can do it himself.

 

Daichi sees to him putting the necklace on, then slipping it under his t-shirt. The weight is comforting and it feels like it’s been there for a long time instead of barely a minute.

 

The goofy, dopey grin he’s giving Daichi must be pretty embarrassing, but with how happy he is, it doesn’t really matter. The image he’s carefully cultivated as a mild, aloof dude is stripped away so casually. He can’t say he minds when it comes to Daichi.

 

“I think the food is ready by now,” Daichi says, linking their hands together. “We better get back to Yui.”

 

Suga merely nods. Frankly, he doesn’t know if he can trust his voice not to quiver. His happiness is brimming over the edges that it makes him jittery.

 

They walk down the shoreline, meeting the water halfway a few times. It’s peaceful on a lovely afternoon like this. The sun is up, embraced by wisps of clouds, the sounds of seagulls, sea breeze filling his nostrils.

 

Just as Daichi said, Yui is waving them over once they get close. “Come eat, lovebirds!”

 

The nickname sends Suga and Daichi blushing, but they still walk over to her anyways. Someone set up a few picnic blankets on the sand, and Suga is immediately ushered to sit down.

 

“If you want more, just serve yourself, okay?” Yui pats his shoulder. “Eat as much as you want. It’s not as good as Daichi’s cooking, but it’s still good.”

 

“Here’s the beer!” A disembodied voice rings out, before the actual body appears, pushing a cooler closer to them. Cheers ensue in response to the announcement.

 

Daichi plops down next to him not long after, handing him a can of beer. It’s not the most romantic setup, especially compared to their night stargazing with goddamned champagne, but Suga feels like he could burst any second. He feels so much at ease, he fits in his skin so perfectly, he can kiss Daichi on his beer-tasting lips.

 

Some of the girls are squealing. Yui playfully pushes Daichi with a proud smile on her lips. Suga wishes he could stay here forever, with people who accept and support him, with no Tokyo looming over him.

 

Maybe Daichi can sense his uneasiness, maybe it’s entirely a coincidence, but Daichi wraps an arm around his torso, akin to some kind of emotional support. It makes Suga embarrassingly sentimental. As good as his friends are at reading him, they tend to shy away from physical contacts, since it often brings out the abject honesty in them regarding their feelings.

 

“Thank you,” Suga murmurs. “This means so much to me.”

 

Daichi’s answer comes in the form of booping his forehead with Suga’s.

 

“Only the best for you.”

 

 

⪻⪼

 

 

 

To Suga’s utmost despair, the time for him to go back to Tokyo comes depressingly fast. Daichi’s friends—who are now also _his_ friends, on their insistence—wanted to see him off at the harbor, but with some persuasion on Suga’s part, they settled for hugs after the farewell party ended.

 

It may seem selfish, but Suga really wants this to be a private moment with Daichi.

 

Since the only thing Suga has on him is just his backpack, picking up his things from Daichi’s house isn’t a complicated affair. He tries to remember every inch of the house before stepping out and walk alongside Daichi.

 

The whole walk to the harbor is filled with silence. It’s unsurprisingly wistful, and not just once does Suga catch himself on the verge of tears. Keeping up a strong facade gets more exhausting by the minute, when in reality, he simply doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stay, he wants to be with Daichi. His whole body hurts, as if he’s fighting against the stronger gravity that exists in Niijima.

 

“I really don’t want to go,” he blurts. In his peripheral, Daichi looks at him in utter surprise. “I feel like I’m going to lose you. Like once I’m back Tokyo, it’s going to crash on me how this summer has only been a dream.”

 

“Suga,” Daichi softly says his name. God, does that sound so right rolling off Daichi’s tongue. He makes himself look at his boyfriend. “I’m real. I won’t cease to be real just because we’re apart.”

 

“Ah, fuck,” Suga curses under his breath. He seriously has been making himself sound like an idiot. “I never meant to be clingy. It’s just… this thing— _our_ thing, it’s so new and tentative. And I’m afraid.” He gulps down the tennis ball-sized lump in his throat. “This is—you are the best thing that’s happened to me in a while, and I don’t feel as though I deserve that, and I don’t to ruin it—”

 

“Suga—”

 

“I know!” Suga quickly looks down at the ground again, kicking pebbles occasionally. “I know I shouldn’t say things like that, but it’s what I feel. This doesn’t feel realistic—someone as good as you, with someone like me…”

 

Suga almost draws away when Daichi tightens their interlocked fingers. “Suga,” Daichi calls out, undemanding but Suga looks at him, anyways. “I completely get what you’re trying to say. I also feel the same way.”

 

Surprise courses through Suga’s body, making him stumble in his steps. Then Daichi speaks again. “The least we can do right now, is to believe in each other, okay?”

 

The meaning of the words slowly registers with Suga, and he briskly nods. He’s not sure he can trust his voice without it cracking mid-sentence right now. It seems to satisfy Daichi enough, because the conversation is dropped and despite the fact that a lot of worries has elevated, his heart is still heavy.

 

The closer they get to the harbor, the more agitated Suga feels. He’s on edge, he keeps squeezing Daichi’s hand in his (he even stopped caring that his palm is disgustingly clammy) and it’s surprising how he hasn’t worn his bottom lip to the bone from how he’s been gnawing on it.

 

Once the ferry is in sight, Suga actually halts his steps. He’s bodily turned around to face Daichi, who fairly looks as pained as he feels. The sun is setting and the light renders Daichi red, giving Suga a vivid flashback to one of their surfing days when Daichi looked almost exactly the same.

 

Suga knows that it’s his chance to drink in Daichi before he boards the ship. Taking a few steps back, he devours the sight of Daichi as much as he can. Today Daichi is clad in a sleeveless hoodie and some sweatpants. His broad shoulders are on display and it makes him look so sturdy and dependable. He misses falling asleep on those shoulders already. There’s a weird ache in Suga’s limbs, probably from him forcing himself to be still and not rush into Daichi’s arms and proceed to miss the ferry.

 

The ship horns before an announcement resonates in the air, warning the passengers that the ferry is sailing in five minutes.

 

There are people everywhere, rushing into the ferry. Suga absently notices that he’s taking backward steps, closer to the ferry’s entrance and away from Daichi. Daichi looks wounded, but doesn’t call Suga over or try to stop him. Desperation fills his lungs, just like longing fills up Daichi’s brown eyes. The sad curve of Daichi’s smile is begging for Suga to hug him for one last time. A goodbye.

 

“Fuck it,” Suga spits and does the dumbest thing he’s ever done in his life. He runs towards Daichi, the thought _no one cares I don’t know anyone here I can kiss him_ repeatedly running through his mind and he wraps his arms around Daichi’s neck. Daichi meets his kiss halfway, deeply and passionately. Fireworks go off in his head, loud and ringing, mixed in with the ferry’s last warning horn. He never knew kisses could feel like a punch in the gut.

 

They finally part—Suga can feel stares coming from all directions, people stunned by their kiss—and Daichi gently pushes him in the ferry’s direction. “Go,” he says. “I’ll call you. Remember the necklace.”

 

To admit that Suga is actually crying would be more embarrassing if Daichi isn’t doing the exact same thing. Sobs rack through his body, which he knows is really dumb, since they will be seeing each other again. With one last big wave at Daichi, Suga turns around and runs up into the ship. All the while still clutching the surfboard pendant in his left hand while the right one is vigorously wiping his tears away.

 

Once inside and the entrance is closed, Suga runs up the stairs to the deck and looks for Daichi in the crowd at the edge of the harbor. Still rubbing the pendant with his thumb over and over, he finds Daichi and smiles at the faraway figure staring back at him.

 

Tokyo. They will see each other again in Tokyo.

 

 

  
  
  
**fin** **.**  

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY, BEFORE ANYONE YELLS AT ME... yes, there will be a sequel. i've also planned spin-offs set in this au, so we'll see how things go. 
> 
> i did my best research on niijima and added my own twist so it could fit with the fic. i also never surfed and i hope i did my best in describing surfing stuff. sorry to those who have actually went to niijima and actually surfed only to find that the things written here arent factual <3 still hope it was a good read!
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://akaahshi.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/reynaramjrez) about my interests or anything at all!
> 
> support me and my writing on [ko-fi](http://ko-fi.com/astraea)


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